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IN  MEMORIAM 
S.  L.  MILLARD  ROSENBERG 


^ 


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ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY 


OLD  AND  NEW 


WILLIAM    KNIGHT 

PROFESSOR    OF    MOKM.    rilll.dSOrHV    AND    I'l  IMFICAL    KC(  INCIM  Y 
IN    THE    UNIVEU^nV    OK   ST     ANDREWS 


wnrcaeaSia^S 


BOSTON   AND    NKW   YORK 

IIOUGIITOX,  MIFFLIN   AND   COMPAXV 

(Cfe  niViasiDi:  Press,  ^iTainliriQae 

lSr)0 


Copyright,  iSgo, 
By  HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY. 

All  ris^hts  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Camiride^e,  A/ass.,  IT.  S.  A  . 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  11.  O.  HouglUon  ci  Co. 


To  My  Friend, 
to 
§  JAI^IES   RUSSELL  LOWELL, 

'—  IS  DEDICATED. 


>- 


C3 


CO 
CD 


r^'i'.y'i  2  I  > 


PREFACE. 


Several  of  the  essays  in  this  volume 
were  published  in  London  in  the  year 
1879.  A  year  or  two  afterwards,  the  en- 
tire stock  of  the  book  of  which  they  formed 
part  was  destroyed  by  fire  in  the  premises 
of  Messrs.  Kegan  Paul  &  Co.  It  has  since 
been  out  of  print.  The  substance  of  the 
first  two  essays  —  on  "  Idealism  and  Ex- 
perience, in  Literature,  Art,  and  Life,"  and 
on  "The  Classification  of  the  Sciences  "  — 
was  embodied  in  a  course  of  lectures  de- 
livered last  summer  to  the  Royal  Institu- 
tion of  Great  Britain.  The  essay  on 
"  Immortality"  was  read  to  the  Ethical  So- 
ciety at  Toynbee  Hall,  East  London,  in 
1 888.     The  majority  of  the  papers  in  the 


iv  PREFACE. 

former  volume  were  addressed  either  to 
Philosophical  Societies,  or  to  University 
students. 

A  leading  idea  will  be  found  running 
through  all  these  studies,  "old  and  new." 
The  essay  on  "  Eclecticicm "  explains  a 
doctrine  and  a  tendency  which  pervade  the 
volume,  and  color  it  throughout.  Only 
one  or  two  of  the  perennial  problems,  how- 
ever, —  those  questions  of  the  ages,  which 
reappear  in  all  the  literature  of  Philosophy, 
—  are  discussed  ;  and  these  are  dealt  with 
less  in  relation  to  the  tendencies  of  the 
time  than  in  their  permanent  aspects. 

In  the  first  essay  an  attempt  is  made 
to  test  the  merits  of  the  rival  philosophies 
of  Idealism  and  Experience  by  a  study 
of  their  results,  or  what  they  have  given 
rise  to  in  the  literary  and  artistic  products 
of  the  world,  and  in  character  both  indi- 
vidual and  national.  Both  of  these  phi- 
losophies are  recognized  as  containing  fun- 
damental truths,  and  each  as  balancing 
the  other. 


PREFACE.  V 

In  the  essay  on  "  The  Classification  of 
the  Sciences "  I  have  tried  to  rearrange 
the  recognized  groups  of  knowledge  from 
a  fresh  point  of  view. 

The  aim  of  the  paper  on  "  Metempsy- 
chosis "  is  to  prove  that  the  precixistence 
and  the  immortality  of  the  soul  are  twin 
ideas,  in  close  speculative  alliance,  and  to 
show  how  the  former  casts  light  upon  the 
latter. 

The  third  essay,  —  originally  an  inaugural 
address,  delivered  to  the  students  of  Moral 
Philosophy  in  St.  Andrews  —  and  part  of 
the  fifth,  discuss  the  theory  of  Evolution. 
As  this  is  the  most  definite  philosophical 
idea  underlying  the  methods  and  processes 
of  Science,  and  as  its  advocates  claim  for 
it  the  merit,  not  only  of  accounting  for  the 
modifications  of  organic  structure,  but  also 
of  explaining  the  origin  of  our  intellectual 
and  moral  nature, — and  as  opposition  to 
its  efficacy  in  the  latter  sphere  is  so  much 
misunderstood,  —  one  or  two  additional 
paragraphs  on  the  subject  may  be  inserted 
in  this  prefatory  note. 


Vi  PREFACE. 

I  do  not  denv  the  evolution  of  intellect- 
iial  and  moral  ideas.  I  only  deny  that 
their  evolution  can  explain  their  origin. 
Kvcry  valid  theory  of  derivation  must  start 
with  the  assumption  of  a  derivative  Source, 
or  it  performs  the  feat  of  educing  some- 
thing out  of  nothing,  nay  of  developing 
everything  out  of  nonentity.  It  may  surely 
rank  as  an  axiom  that  whatever  is  subse- 
quently evolved  must  have  been  originally 
involved. 

Our  intellectual  and  moral  nature  bears 
the  most  evident  traces  of  evolution. 
Within  the  historic  period,  the  progress  of 
humanity,  both  in  knowledge  and  feeling, 
has  been  more  rapid  and  more  apparent 
than  an}'  advance  made  in  the  type  of  pliys- 
ical  organization.  If  we  compare  the  rec- 
ords of  civilization  in  ancient  Kgypt  and 
Assyria  with  that  of  I^ngland  in  the  nine- 
teenth century,  the  mind  and  character  of 
the  race  seem  to  have  undergor.e  a  rela- 
tively much  greater  development  than  its 
physique.      It  is  true  that  this  may  be  only 


PR  El- ACE.  VII 

apparent.  Possibly  the  alteration  may  have 
been  equally  great  in  both  directions.  It 
has  certainly  been  equally  real  ;  although 
between  the  faces  carved  on  the  stones 
and  gems  of  the  centuries  b.  c.  and  those 
we  sec  in  the  nineteenth  century  a.  d. 
there  is  less  apparent  difference  than  exists 
between  the  science,  the  art,  the  religion, 
and  the  morals  of  the  respective  periods. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  history  of  human- 
ity is  the  story  of  an  ever-evolving,  ever- 
developing  process.  No  one  can  ration- 
ally deny,  and  scarcely  any  one  ventures  to 
question  this.  No  individual  can  escape 
the  modifying  force  of  hereditary  influ- 
ences, and  if  these  produce  change  in  one 
department  of  our  nature,  they  necessarily 
affect  the  whole  of  it.  It  is  therefore  cer- 
tain that  the  present  intellectual  and  moral 
ideas  of  the  race  are  the  result  of  ages  of 
gradual  growth,  refinement,  and  self-recti- 
fication. Nor  can  it  be  doubted,  I  think, 
that  the  process  has  been  a  development 
from  within,  while  it  has  been  modified  by 


viii  PREFACE. 

influences  from  without  ;  that  forces  ab  ex- 
tra have  cooperated  with  powers  and  ten- 
dencies ab  intra  in  producing  the  result. 

It  may  be  confidently  affirmed  that  each 
man  is  what  he  now  is,  not  only  in  virtue 
of  what  every  other  man  has  been  before 
him,  in  the  direct  line  of  ancestry,  but  also 
in  virtue  of  what  everything  else  has  been  ; 
while  it  may  be  as  confidently  affirmed  that 
he  is  what  he  is,  in  virtue  of  what  he  has 
made  himself,  both  as  a  rational  being  and 
a  moral  agent.  Such  is  the  solidarity  of 
the  race,  and  its  organic  unity,  that  the 
present  is  the  outcome  as  well  as  the  se- 
quel of  the  past,  and  that  all  the  "  charac- 
teristics of  the  present  age"  are  due  to  an 
evolving  agency,  latent  within  the  universe 
ab  initio.  If  this  be  so,  the  moral  ideas 
which  now  sway  the  race  are  a  heritage 
which  have  come  down  to  it  from  the  dawn 
of  history,  nay,  from  the  very  beginnings 
of  existence.  They  reach  it  with  the  sanc- 
tions of  an  immeasurable  past,  superadded 
to  the  necessities  of  the  present  ;  and  the 


PREFACE.  ix 

binding  force  of  ethical  maxims  is  not 
weakened,  either  by  the  fact  that  they  arc 
slow  interior  growths,  or  because  their 
present  form  is  due  to  the  myriad  modi- 
fications of  external  circumstance.  In 
either  case,  and  on  both  grounds,  they 
have  the  prestige  of  the  remotest  anti- 
quity ;  and  even  if  their  sole  raison  d'etre 
were  the  authority  of  custom,  that  author- 
ity would  be  real,  because  based  upon  the 
everlasting  order  of  the  universe.  So 
much  must  be  frankly  admitted.  The 
whole  pith  of  the  controversy,  however,  lies 
behind  this  admission. 

I  have  pointed  out  in  the  third  essay 
that  if  the  intellectual  and  moral  nature  of 
man  is  entirely  due  to  the  influence  of  ante- 
cedents —  in  other  words,  if  the  past  alone 
and  by  itself  can  explain  the  present,  while 
alteration  is  still  going  on,  and  change  is 
incessant  —  no  product  is  ever  reached. 
We  have  only  an 

eternal /rtwj-j  moving  on. 

Ilui'ra  pa,  ovl\v  /xeVct.     There  is  no  Standard 


X  rKEFACE. 

of  the  true,  or  the  beautiful,  or  the  good  ; 
no  principles  of  knowledge  ;  no  canons  of 
taste ;  no  laws  of  morality.  The  principles 
of  knowledge  are  empirical  judgments,  and 
nothing  more  ;  the  canons  of  taste  are  sub- 
jective likings,  and  nothing  more  ;  the  laws 
of  morality  are  dictates  of  expediency,  and 
nothing  more.  As  the  fully  developed 
doctrine  of  evolution  abolishes  species  al- 
together, and  reduces  each  to  a  passing 
state  of  the  organism,  which  is  undergoing 
a  modification  that  never  ceases;  so  the 
notion  of  a  standard  of  the  true,  or  of  the 
right,  vanishes,  of  necessity,  in  a  process 
of  perpetual  becoming.  They  are  always 
about  to  be  ;  they  never  really  arc.  The 
species  and  the  standard  may  still,  for  con- 
venience' sake,  receive  a  name,  but  it  is 
the  name  of  a  transient  j^hase  of  being,  of 
a  wave  in  the  sea  of  appearance  ;  I'ox,  ct 
prctcrca  fiihil.  The  nominal  alone  sur- 
vives ;  the  real  and  the  ideal  have  together 
vanished. 

As  the  validity  of    this  conclusion    has 


PREFACE.  XI 

• 

been  questioned,  and  as  it  seems  to  me  of 
far  greater  moment  than  is  often  allowed, 
I  may  unfold  it  a  little  farther. 

It  is  absolutely  inevitable  that  all  our 
ethical  rules  must  undergo  modification 
and  change.  That  they  must  develop, 
as  they  have  developed,  is  not  only  cer- 
tain, it  is  an  omen  of  hope  ;  one  of  the 
brightest  prospects  on  the  horizon  of  the 
future.  It  is  not  difficult  to  discover  much 
in  the  present  opinion  and  practice  of  the 
world  —  in  which  convention  so  often  takes 
the  place  of  nature  —  to  make  us  thankful 
that  we  have  the  prospect  of  change.  Ev- 
olution has  assuredly  much  still  to  do,  both 
in  eradicating  the  blots  which  now  disfigure 
the  belief  and  the  actions  of  mankind,  and 
in  bringing  out  their  undeveloped  good. 
Besides,  if  the  moral  law  were  to  oper- 
ate through  all  time  with  invariable  fixity, 
like  the  law  of  gravitation,  it  would  be  re- 
duced to  the  inferior  rank  of  mechanical 
necessity,  and  the  moral  agent  would  sink 
to  the  position  of  an  automaton. 


xii  PREFACE. 

• 

As  to  this,  however,  there  is  no  con- 
troversy. Past  development  and  future 
evolution  are  both  alike  admitted.  The 
question  is  not  whether  the  adult  moral 
judgments  and  sentiments  of  the  race  have 
been  preceded  by  rudimentary  ones,  and 
will  yet  ripen  mto  maturer  and  mellower 
ones  —  as  the  bird  has  come  out  of  the 
egg,  and  the  oak  from  the  acorn.  The 
real  question  at  issue  —  which  no  amount 
of  brilliant  discussion  on  side-issues  should 
for  a  moment  obscure  —  is  as  to  the  na- 
ture of  the  Fountain-head,  not  as  to  the 
character  or  the  course  of  the  stream.  It 
is  as  to  the  kind  of  Root,  out  of  which  the 
tree  of  our  knowledge  has  grown  ;  and  as 
to  the  substance  of  the  Rock,  out  of  which 
our  moral  ideal  has  been  hewn.  Now,  I 
maintain  that  evolution,  pure  and  simple, 
is  process  pure  and  simple,  with  no  pro- 
duct;  with  nothing  definitely  emerging, 
and  with  nothing  real  or  essential  under- 
neath. It  is  simply  the  Heraclitic  flux 
of   thintrs.     But   this   takes  for  granted  a 


PREFACE.  XI 11 

phenomenal  theory  of  the  universe.  If 
noumena  exist,  if  there  be  a  substantial 
world  within  the  ego,  —  or  within  the  cos- 
mos beyond  the  ego,  —  a  doctrine  of  phe- 
nomenal evolution  is  neither  the  first  nor 
the  last  word  of  Philosophy,  but  only  a  sec- 
ondary and  intermediate  one.  The  whole 
process  of  development  is  carried  on  in  a 
region  entirely  outside  of  the  sphere  of  the 
philosophical  problem.  This  problem  re- 
emerges  in  full  force,  after  every  link  of 
the  chain  of  evolution  has  been  traced  ; 
and  the  completest  enumeration  of  details, 
as  to  the  method  of  development,  carries 
us  very  little  farther  than  the  common- 
place conclusion  that  we,  and  all  things 
else,  have  grozvn. 

It  will  be  found  that,  however  far  our 
historical  inquiry  into  the  prior  phases  of 
consciousness  maybe  carried,  it  leads  back 
to  the  metaphysical  problem  of  the  rela- 
tion of  appearances  to  essence,  or  the  phe- 
nomenal to  the  substantial.  It  is  only  the 
phenomenal  that  can  be  evolved  ;  noumena 


xiv  PREFACE. 

are  evolving  powers  or  essences,  them- 
selves unevolved.  If,  therefore,  our  per- 
sonality contains  aught  within  it  that  is 
noumenal,  it  contains  something  that  has 
not  been  evolved.  If  free  will  is  not  wholly 
phenomenal,  —  though  it  may  have  phe- 
nomenal aspects,  —  the  will  has  not  been 
developed  out  of  desire,  as  desire  may 
have  been  educed  from  sensation. 

It  is  no  solution  of  the  difficulty,  but  a 
mere  cutting  of  the  knot,  to  say  that  will 
is  a  phase  of  desire,  or  the  progeny  of  de- 
sire. Of  course,  if  there  be  no  such  thing 
as  free  will,  if  necessitarianism  be  true,  it 
is  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  explain 
its  evolution  ;  as  easy  as  to  explain  how 
the  flower  issues  from  the  seed,  i.  e.,  it  re- 
quires no  explanation  at  all.  In  other 
words,  if  the  rise  of  self-assertion  be  the 
rise  of  will,  if  to  find  a  centre  in  one's  self 
and  to  resist  aggression  or  encroachment 
on  one's  rights  is  to  discover  the  root  of 
volition,  the  knot  is  cut  ;  but  the  problem 
is  not  solved.     The  dil^culty  is  explained 


PREFACE.  XV 

away  ;  but  it  reappears  again,  with  undi- 
minished force,  aflcr  the  explanation  is 
given. 

Everything,  in  this  controversy,  turns 
on  the  determination  of  the  nature  of  per- 
sonahty,  and  its  root,  free  will  ;  and  the 
whole  discussion  converges  to  a  narrow  is- 
sue. Unless  an  act  be  due  to  the  person- 
ality of  an  agent,  /.  c,  to  his  antecedents, 
he  is  not  only  not  responsible  for  it  —  it 
is  not  truly  his  ;  similarly  and  siniiiltanc- 
ously,  unless  it  be  due  to  his  will,  as  a 
productive  cause,  it  is  not  his,  it  is  the  uni- 
verse s  ;  it  is  the  act  of  the  antecedent  gen- 
erations, and  not  his  own  act.  Unless  it 
be  the  outcome  of  his  moral  freedom,  he  is 
an  automaton,  and  the  act  is  in  no  sense 
his  own. 

Strong  objection  was  taken  by  some 
critics  to  the  statement  in  my  essay,  as 
originally  published  in  The  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury, that  if  Evolution  cannot  account  for 
the  origin  of  the  moral  faculty  in  the  life- 
time of  the   individual,  the  experience   of 


Xvi  PREFACE. 

the  race  at  large  is  incompetent  to  explain 
it ;  because  the  latter  is  merely  an  exten- 
sion of  the  same  principle  and  the  same 
process.  It  seems  to  me,  however,  to  be 
self-evident  that  if  an  explanation  fails  in 
relevancy,  within  a  limited  area  filled  with 
phenomena  of  a  certain  class,  its  applica- 
tion to  a  larger  area  filled  with  the  same 
kind  of  phenomena  will  not  redeem  its 
character,  and  give  it  success.  If  individ- 
ual experience  cannot  explain  the  origin 
of  our  moral  ideas,  collective  experience 
cannot  come  to  the  rescue  ;  and  why  .-'  Be- 
cause by  a  mere  enlargement  of  the  space 
which  the  principle  traverses,  you  get  no 
fresh  light  as  to  its  nature,  or  its  relevancy. 
It  is  said  that  the  acts  of  all  our  ancestors 
have  transmitted  a  habit  to  posterity,  and 
that  while  the  iron  hand  of  the  past  is 
holding  us,  we  imagine  —  by  the  trick 
which  custom  plays  unconsciously  —  that 
certain  things  arc  innate  which  have  been 
really  acquired  for  us  by  the  usage  of  our 
ancestors.      This  is  only  possible,  however, 


PREFACE.  XVU 

on  the  pre-supposition  that  the  course  of 
development  is  at  once  rigidly  necessita- 
rian and  purely  phenomenal. 

But  if,  in  individual  life  and  experience, 
the  rise  of  the  higher  elements  out  of  the 
lower  cannot  be  explained  by  the  mere  pre- 
existence  of  the  lower,  what  possible  right 
can  we  have  to  affirm  that  an  extension  of 
the  process  of  evolution  indefinitely  far 
back  will  bring  us  within  sight  of  the  solu- 
tion ?  We  must  have  definite  and  verifia- 
ble evidence  of  the  power  of  evolution,  to 
explain  the  processes  of  change  within  the 
sphere  of  subjective  experience,  before  we 
are  entitled  to  extend  it,  as  the  sole  princi- 
ple explanatory  of  the  changes  that  occur 
beyond  the  range  of  experience.  Unless 
evolution  can  explain  itself,  we  must  get 
behind  the  evolving  chain  to  find  the 
source  of  its  evolution.  If  change  cannot 
explain  change,  we  must  go  beyond  what 
occurs  to  discover  the  cause  of  its  occur- 
rence ;  and  we  cannot  validly  take  a  ''  leap 
in  the  dark,"  if  we  have  no  previous  experi- 


Xviii  PREFACE. 

ence  of  walking  in  that  particular  way  in 
the  light. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  the  problem  of 
evolution  leads  back,  by  no  intricate  path- 
way, to  the  metaphysical  problem  of  causa- 
tion. If  causation  is  simply  occurrence,  or 
mere  phenomenal  sequence,  —  as  Hume 
and  the  Comtists  teach,  —  then,  evolution 
is  the  process  b}'  which  all  things  have 
come  to  be  what  they  are  ;  and  the  laws 
of  evolution  are  the  laws  of  phenomenal 
occurrence,  which  illustrate  "  the  process 
of  becoming."  If  this,  however,  is  an  un- 
satisfactory theory  of  causality,  if  causa- 
tion is  something  more  than  sequence, 
then  evolution  is  not  the  sole  or  the  chief 
principle  explanatory  of  existence,  because 
it  leaves  out  of  account  the  major  truth 
of  causation  itself. 

The  simple  observation  (for  surely  it  is 
no  discovery)  that  a  consequent  follows  in 
the  wake  of  an  antecedent  will  not  explain 
how  the  sequence  has  been  accomplished  ; 
and  no  extension  of  the  time,  or  widening 


PREFACE  xix 

of  the  area,  will  help  to  explain  it,  because 
such  extension  and  widening  are  simply 
the  addition  of  a  number  of  similar  links 
to  those  which  already  constitute  the  chain 
of  derivation.  We  get  no  principle  explan- 
atory of  the  whole,  unless  we  find  out  how 
the  first  link  of  the  chain  was  forged,  and 
what  it  hangs  on  ;  or,  if  there  be  no  first 
link,  and  therefore  no  connection  with  a 
Source,  unless  we  discover  the  inner  tie 
that  unites  the  separate  links,  distinct  from 
their  mere  succession  in  time. 

Further,  even  assuming  the  "correctness 
of  the  theory  of  development,  to  make, 
say,  an  opinion  valid,  or  a  custom  expedi- 
ent, the  process  of  going  back  upon  their 
rudiments  —  with  those  large  drafts  on 
space  and  time  which  the  derivative  phi- 
losophy indulges  in  —  is  not  requisite  ;  be- 
cause an  opinion  might  be  true,  and  an  act 
might  be  useful,  with  no  precedent  to  back 
them  up.  They  might  be  both  true  and 
good  just  as  they  arose,  and  simply  because 
they  arose.     As  everything  is,  on  the  same 


XX  PREFACE 

theory,  in  incessant  change,  and  each 
stage  of  the  process  is  equally  valuable, 
venerable,  and  respectable,  both  opinion 
and  practice  can  dispense  with  the  author- 
ity of  precedent.  Precedent  itself,  in  short, 
breaks  down  on  the  theory  of  evolution. 
What  is  the  use  of  an  appeal  to  an  antece- 
dent, in  the  case  of  a  thing  the  existence  of 
which  is  necessitated,  but  which  is  itself 
different  from  all  its  predecessors  and  from 
all  its  successors  ;  a  thing  which,  apart 
from  precedent  and  example,  has  as  good 
a  right  to  Sxist  as  any  of  them  ;  and  which 
is  itself  not  only  necessitated,  but  also 
ephemeral } 

I  cannot,  however,  pursue  this  discussion 
further  without  exceeding  the  limits  of  a 
preface. 

WILLIAM    KNIGHT. 
The  University,  St.  Andrews,  N.  B. 
August,  1890. 


CONTENTS. 


PACK 

Idealism    and    Experience,    in     Literature, 

Art,  and  Liee 23 

The  Ci.assieication  of  the  Sciences    .        .        72 
Ethical  Philosophy  and  Evolution        .        .109 

Eclecticism 173 

Personality  and  the  Infinite  .        .        .        .211 

Immortality 2S3 

The  Doctrine  of  Metempsychosis    .        .        .  ^16 


ESSAYS    IN    PHILOSOPHY. 


IDEALISM  AND    EXPERIENCE,   IN 
LITERATURE,   ART,    AND    LIFE. 

Two  great  streams  of  tendency  have 
flowed  side  by  side  throughout  the  ages,  in 
ahnost  equal  strength  and  volume.  These 
streams  have  given  rise  to  two  rival  phi- 
losophies, that  of  Idealism,  and  that  of 
Experience.  All  the  philosophies  of  the 
world  belong  to  one  or  other  of  these  two 
classes.  They  are  either  ideal  or  experi- 
ential. They  have  been  a  thousand  times 
discussed,  and  their  evidence  weighed  by 
their  advocates,  on  purely  speculative 
grounds.  They  may  be  appraised,  how- 
ever, and  their  merits  and  demerits  dis- 
cerned, quite  as  much  by  the  results  that 
have  flowed  from  them,  as  by  their  intrin- 
sic evidence.  A  sure  test  of  their  philo- 
sophic value  is  their  outcome,  or  the  influ- 
ence they  have  exerted  on  the  Literature, 


24  EssAVs  nv  riiiLOSoriiY. 

the  Art,  and  the  Character  of  the  periods 
in  which  they  have  respectively  flourished. 
It  is  the  aim  of  the  following  pages  to 
point  out  the  influence  of  these  two  streams 
of  tendency,  and  to  exhibit  their  relations. 
A  few  preliminary  sentences  on  the  nature 
of  Philosophy  and  on  its  leading  types  will 
enable  us  to  estimate  their  nature  and 
their  results. 

All  philosophy  originates  in  human  cu- 
riosity, in  the  tendency  to  ask  questions  ; 
but  it  is  distinguished  from  a  mere  search 
for  information,  or  miscellaneous  know- 
ledge, by  its  being  an  attempt  to  discover 
a  principle  which  underlies,  and  which  can 
account  for,  individual  experience  and  de- 
tached occurrences,  —  a  principle  within 
which  the  latter  may  be  embraced,  and  by 
which  it  may  be  in  part  explained.  Under 
all  the  varied  phases  which  philosophy  has 
assumed,  it  has  been  an  attempt  to  get 
beneath  the  surface  show  of  things,  and  to 
interpret,  however  inadequately,  a  part  of 
that  mysterious  text  which  the  universe 
presents  to  our  faculties  for  interpretation. 
And  as  such  it  has  been  a  pursuit  common 
to  all  men,  whether  they  have  known  it,  or 
known    it    not,  and    whether    it    has    been 


IDEALISM  A\n   EXl'ERIKiXCK.  2$ 

described  by  the  old  Greek  term  (fnXtxrorfiii, 
or  not.  It  is  a  popular  delusion  that  IMiilos- 
ophy  is  a  pursuit  which 'may  interest  a  few 
recluse  spirits,  but  is  not  a  matter  about 
which  men  and  women  in  j:^eneral  need 
concern  themselves,  or  with  which  they  are 
competent  to  deal.  The  truth  is  that  when- 
ever we  ask  the  meaninj^  of  anything",  or 
the  reason  for  anything,  we  at  once  begin 
to  philosophize  ;  and  we  are  all  uncon- 
scious metaphysicians  long  before  we  read 
a  word  of  philosophical  literature.  We 
cannot  carry  on  the  simplest  conversation 
on  common  things  without  using  terms 
which  are  the  battlefields  of  metaphysical 
discussion  ;  and  if  we  are  to  use  them  ra- 
tionally (even  in  our  common  conversation), 
we  must  know  something  of  their  import, 
and  something  of  their  history,  as  well  as 
of  their  latent  significance  ;  that  is  to  say, 
we  must  philosophize.  If  we  try  to  dis- 
tinguish between  appearance  and  reality, 
between  symbols  and  the  things  they  sym- 
bolize, between  the  accidental  and  the 
essential,  we  are  dealing  with  Philosophy. 
Nay,  if  we  pursue  the  simplest  inquiry  far 
enough,  we  come  to  the  question  of  its 
ultimate  evidence,  and  that  is  again  to  say 


26  JiSSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

we  come  to  its  philosophy  ;  so  that  our 
only  choice  is,  not  whether  we  will  deal 
with  philosophical  problems  or  not,  but 
whether  we  will  deal  with  them  wisely  or 
foolishly,  whether  we  will  think  with  reason 
or  without  it. 

This  being  the  aim  and  the  end  of  Phi- 
losophy, it  is  evident  that  its  cultivation 
must  be  a  radical  want  of  human  nature, 
and  its  pursuit  a  perennial  tendency.  At 
particular  periods  it  may  be  crushed  under 
the  influence  of  other  tendencies  that  pro- 
nounce it  to  be  illusory.  But  history 
shows  that  Philosophy  always  revives  in 
undiminished  strength  and  with  increasing 
lustre  after  every  temporary  repression. 
Its  best  symbol  is  the  phoenix,  which  was 
fabled  to  spring  immortal  from  the  fire 
that  consumed  it. 

It  is  unnecessary,  however,  to  vindicate 
philosophy  any  further.  I  have  rather  to 
illustrate  the  following  thesis,  viz.,  that  the 
particular  type  of  speculation  which  we 
either  inherit  or  adopt  has  the  closest  bear- 
ing upon  all  our  other  opinions  and  ten- 
dencies, and  to  a  large  extent  determines 
these  ;  and,  further,  that  the  whole  com- 
plex outcome  of  a  nation's  life  is  colored 


IDEALISM  AXD   EX /'EKIIiA'C/:.         2/ 

by  its  philosophy,  up  to  at  least  one  half 
of  what  it  becomes.  No  one  can  follow 
the  course  of  history  without  perceiving 
that  the  labor  of  those  who  founded  the 
great  systems  of  opinion  has  told,  in  in- 
numerable ways,  upon  the  world  at  every 
point  ;  and  that  the  various  types  of  liter- 
ary work,  of  artistic  labor,  of  social  senti- 
ment, of  political  activity,  and  of  religious 
belief,  have  all  been  modified  by  the  phi- 
losophy which  happened  to  be  in  the  as- 
cendant. The  reason  is  very  evident.  It 
is  due  to  the  unity  and  the  solidarity  of 
the  human  race;  in  other  words,  to  the  fact 
that  no  element  in  civilization  is  or  can  be 
isolated  from  its  allies. 

But  what  are  the  two  schools  of  philos- 
ophy which  have  always  existed  side  by 
side,  and  are  ineradicable  features  in  the 
speculative  life  of  the  world  .-'  They  are 
respectively  the  philosophies  of  Idealism 
and  of  Experience.  They  have  succeeded 
each  other  by  action  and  reaction,  some- 
times slowly  and  sometimes  swiftly.  They 
have  assumed  new  phases  at  every  stage 
of  their  evolution ;  but  they  have  never 
been  absent,  have  never  been  extinguished 
—  like  the  two  great  political  parties,  which 


28  ESSAVS    IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

have  in  every  age  (though  under  clivers 
names)  contended  for  supremacy,  but  the 
continued  existence  of  both  of  which  seems 
essential  to  the  stability  of  nations,  and 
the  progress  of  the  race.  There  is  a 
risk,  however,  that  we  become  entangled 
by  our  phraseology  and  deceived  by  the 
very  terms  we  employ.  We  must  therefore 
explain  what  is  meant  by  the  phrases  we 
have  used. 

Suppose,  then,  that  after  the  most  ex- 
tended and  exhaustive  study  of  the  uni- 
verse that  surrounds  us,  —  of  all  that  ap- 
peals to  our  senses,  and  of  the  forces  work- 
ing around  us  and  within,  — the  only  thing 
we  can  say,  in  explanation  of  the  ever- 
changing  spectacle,  is  that  certain  of  the 
phenomena  which  resemble  each  other  can 
be  arranged  in  classes,  or  departmental 
groups,  and  that  the  whole  of  the  phenom- 
ena have  been  evolved  out  of  antecedent 
conditions  ;  but  that  we  are  quite  unable 
to  rise  above  the  stream  of  occurrences, 
and  apprehend  a  principle  working  within 
it,  or  to  get  beyond  the  whole  series,  to 
what  is  substantial,  underworking,  and 
permanent,  — this  is  the  philosophy  of  Ex- 
perience or  of  Empiricism.      It  is  so  called 


IDEAIJSM  AND   EXPERIENCE.  29 

because  it  limits  us  to  tlic  tliini^s  which 
come  and  i;o,  which  arise  and  fall,  which 
a])pcar  and  disa]-»pear,  which  are  born  and 
die,  in  endless  sequence  and  by  predeter- 
mined necessity.  It  affirms  that  those 
paths  which  sccui  to  carry  us  beyond  ])he- 
nomena  are  tracks  which  lead  nowhere ; 
and  that  any  apparent  lii^ht  as  to  the  realm 
of  substance  is  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  an  ignis 
fain  Its. 

Suppose,  on  the  other  hand,  that  we  are 
able  to  discern  something  more  than  mere 
co-existence,  succession,  and  evolution,  — 
a  stable  element  within  the  changing  series, 
a  permanent  causal  Power  working  within 
the  mutable  world  of  mere  appearance  ; 
and  if,  in  consequence  of  this,  we  may 
validly  interpret  the  things  of  sense  as  the 
types,  the  shadows,  and  the  symbols  of 
higher  realities,  viz.,  those  archetypes  which 
are  not  visible,  nor  audible,  nor  tangible, 
but  which  are  disclosed  to  reason  by  the 
aid  of  sense,  and  which  illumine  the  realm 
of  sensation,  —  this  is  the  philosophy  of 
Idealism. 

Each  of  these  philosophies  represents  a 
fundamental  tendency  of  human  nature. 
Each  has  had  a  lon<T  and  a  distiniruished 


30  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

history.  They  began  to  develop  them- 
selves in  the  remote  East,  before  the  Hel- 
lenic civilization  crystallized  and  defined 
them  sharply  ;  and  they  have  flowed  on 
ever  since,  in  two  great  streams  of  ten- 
dency, distinct  from  each  other,  yet  shov^- 
ing  curious  affinities,  and  even  forming 
temporary  alliances.  It  is  worthy  of  a 
passing  remark  that,  in  almost  every  phi- 
losophical controversy,  we  find  the  cen- 
tral point  of  the  opposite  system  somehow 
recognized  by  the  system  that  controverts 
it ;  only  it  is  subordinated  to  another  prin- 
ciple which  has  the  place  of  honor.  Thus 
the  difference  between  opposite  systems  of 
philosophy  lies  very  often  in  the  amount  of 
emphasis  they  throw  on  principles  which 
both  recognize. 

Amongst  the  great  idealists  of  antiquity 
there  was  an  illustrious  succession  in 
Greece  before  the  time  of  Plato  ;  but  in 
him,  and  his  intellectual  work,  Greek  ideal- 
ism culminated  ;  so  much  so  that  his  name, 
more  than  that  of  any  other  in  the  history 
of  the  world,  is  associated  with  w1iat  is 
called  "  the  ideal  theory  "  of  knowledge, 
and  of  existence. 

It  was  out  of  an  analysis  of  scnse-per- 


IDEALISM  AND  EXPERIENCE.         3  I 

ception  that  this  theory  took  its  rise.  Fol- 
lowing the  lesser  light  of  the  previous 
i;iealism  of  Greece,  and  the  greater  liglit 
of  the  ideal  within  his  own  mind,  Plato 
maintained  that  the  senses  —  those  origi- 
nal gateways  of  communication  with  the 
outer  world  —  yield  us  by  themselves  only 
a  mass  of  separate  impressions,  which  do 
not  constitute  true  knowledge,  but  are 
merely  its  raw  material  ;  and  that,  in  order 
to  reduce  these  impressions  to  order,  some- 
thing more  than  sensation  is  required.  He 
held  that  the  mind  brought  forward  from 
within,  and  impressed  upon  the  phenomena 
of  sense,  certain  ideal  forms  ;  and  that  the 
exercise  of  this  interior  power  was  neces- 
sary to  give  permanence  to  the  fleeting  im- 
pressions of  sense,  and  to  build  them  into 
unity.  It  was  the  function  of  the  reason 
to  apprehend  a  substantial  and  i)crmanent 
element  underlying  material  forms, — and 
yet  transcending  them, —  an  element  which 
existed  apart  both  from  the  realm  of  mat- 
ter and  from  the  mind  that  realized  it. 
Plato  always  spoke,  however,  of  ideas  in 
the  plural.  Tney  were  eternal  and  im- 
mutable essences,  superior  to  the  visible 
forms  in  which   thev  were  mirrored  to  us. 


32  £SSAyS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

and  independent  of  the  shadows  which 
they  cast.  They  were  the  archetypes  of 
what  appeared  in  the  lower  world  of  sense, 
in  which  they  were  casually  reflected  to 
us  ;  but  they  were  not  the  creation  of  the 
human  faculties,  "projections  of  the  mind's 
own  throwing."  They  were  independent, 
eternal,  archetypal  essences,  far  more  real 
than  the  phenomena  of  sense ;  and  Plato 
thought  that,  by  means  of  these  ideas,  he 
could  explain  the  lower  world  of  appearance. 
There  were  many  inconsistencies  in 
Plato's  idealism.  That,  how^ever,  is  a  very 
unimportant  matter,  because  no  philosophy 
has  ever  escaped  the  charge  of  harboring 
inconsistent  elements  within  it,  and  it 
would  be  a  very  dull  and  uninteresting  phi- 
losophy if  it  did  !  The  great  merit  of  the 
philosophy  of  Plato  is  the  stress  it  threw 
upon  the  universal  element  underived  from 
sense,  which  works  through  it  and  irradi- 
ates it.  It  is  quite  true  that  he  disparages 
the  sensible  world  unduly  ;  and  hence  a  re- 
action from  his  extreme  idealism  was  inevi- 
table. His  great  successor,  Aristotle,  broke 
with  his  master  mainly  on  this  one  point. 
The  theory  that  reduced  our  knowledge 
of    individual  objects  by  themselves  to   a 


IDEALISM  AND   EX PEKIEA'CE.         33 

knowledge  of  shadows  seemed  to  Aristotle 
an  undue  disparagement  of  the  things  of 
sense.  He  believed  that  individual  objects 
were  more  real  than  anything  they  sym- 
bolized, more  real  tiian  the  type  or  class  to 
which  they  belonged  ;  and  this  fundamental 
difference  between  the  two  great  philoso- 
phies of  antiquity  ripened  gradually  into 
the  leading  controversy  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  a  controversy  which  three  centuries 
of  debate  did  not  exhaust  ;  viz.,  whether 
genera  and  species  were  real  things,  or 
merely  the  names  which  we  affi.x  to  a  num- 
ber of  particular  things.  The  philosophy 
which  Aristotle  championed  tended  more 
and  more  toward  the  side  of  experience, 
even  sensational  experience ;  although  in 
the  high  prerogative  which  he  assigned  to 
Reason,  both  in  his  intellectual  and  in 
his  moral  philosophy,  he  is  not  to  be  con- 
founded with  the  leaders  of  the  latter 
schools,  who  have  assigned  to  it  the  me- 
nial office  of  being  a  sort  of  lion's  provider 
to  the  senses. 

The  reaction  which  took  place  in  Greek 
philosophy  after  Plato  was  a  descent  from 
the  ideal  to  the  actual,  a  return  to  the  con- 
create  world  of  experience,  to  finite  realit\-. 


34  /iSSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

to  the  limited  and  the  particular.  As  con- 
trasted with  this,  the  great  and  prevailing 
merit  of  Plato's  philosophy  is  not  any  par- 
ticular doctrine  which  he  taught,  but  that 
spirit  of  idealism  in  which  his  whole  phi- 
losophy lived,  and  moved,  and  had  its  be- 
ing. It  was  a  philosophy  of  aspiration,  of 
intellectual  flight  and  moral  soaring  above 
realization  toward  the  unattained  and  the 
infinite.  The  philosophy  of  Aristotle 
kept  close  to  the  finite,  and  distrusted  all 
that  transcended  it.  It  gave  no  scope  for 
aerial  voyages,  whether  of  the  reason,  or 
of  the  imagination,  or  of  the  fancy.  It 
had,  it  is  true,  a  sobering  effect  upon  some 
of  the  vague  and  mystic  tendencies  which 
the  opposite  philosophy  had  shown,  and 
which  it  has  often  subsequently  fostered. 
It  is  also  true  that  when  we  are  in  the 
company  of  Aristotle  and  the  Aristotelians 
there  is  no  fear  of  our  mistaking  a  mirage 
for  the  solid  land.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
since  we  are  debarred  from  access  to  the 
transcendental,  the  wings  of  aspiration  are 
bound,  if  they  are  not  clipped  ;  and  with 
the  repression  of  enthusiasm  hope  is  di- 
minished, and  one  great  stimulus  to  prog- 
ress removed. 


IDEALISM  AND  FXPERIEXCE.         35 

So  much  for  the  main  features  of  the 
philosophies  of  Idealism  and  Exj^erience. 

It  is  the  outcome  of  these  rival  systems 
that  we  have  now  to  investigate  ;  and  their 
real  character  may  be  ascertained  quite 
as  much  by  the  consequences  to  which 
they  have  given  rise,  as  by  a  study  of  their 
intellectual  structure  and  relations. 

We  have  first  to  note  the  effect  of  the 
prevalence  of  the  spirit  of  Idealism  on  Lit- 
erature, and  the  contrary  effect  of  the  prev- 
alence of  Expcrientialism  or  Empiricism. 
Whenever  the  philosophy  of  idealism  has 
been  in  the  ascendant  we  invariably  find  a 
free  and  forward  movement  in  imaginative 
Literature.  Originality  abounds,  and  new 
departures  are  made  in  many  directions. 
The  reason  is  obvious.  Dissatisfaction 
with  past  attainment  is  inseparable  from 
idealism.  It  is  one  of  the  surest  symptoms 
of  its  presence  that  what  has  been  already 
realized  or  achieved  ceases  to  interest,  or 
at  least  to  attract,  for  the  time  ;  and  one 
of  its  immediate  results  is  fresh  creative 
effort,  or  new  literary  productiveness.  It 
is  emphatically  true  of  it,  under  all  its  as- 
])ects,  that  "  forgetting  what  is  behind,  it 
roaches  out  to  what  is    before."     All  the 


36  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

higher  literature,  and  especially  all  the  lof- 
tiest poetry  of  the  world,  is  permeated 
through  and  through  by  this  spirit.  From 
its  early  springtime  in  the  Vedic  hymns, 
its  sublime  flights  in  the  Hebrew  Psalter, 
its  marvelous  diffusion  in  the  Greek  litera- 
ture of  the  age  of  Pericles,  its  appearance 
here  and  there  in  the  Zendavesta,  till  it 
burst  upon  the  world  with  unparalleled  in- 
tensity at  the  commencement  of  the  Chris- 
tian era,  we  may  trace  its  onward  move- 
ment, coloring  all  the  nobler  productions 
of  mediasvalism  and  of  modern  Europe. 
The  poetry  of  Dante,  c.  g.,  is  idealistic  to 
the  core.  The  spirit  of  chivalry  is  one  of 
its  effects.  It  breathes  through  all  the 
hymns  and  litanies  of  Christendom,  and  is 
impressed  in  indelible  lines  on  its  archi- 
tecture, from  the  stateliest  minster  to  the 
humblest  chapel  ;  and  whenever  there  has 
been  what  is  called  a  ''renaissance,"  or 
revival,  in  literature  or  in  art,  it  has  been 
due  to  the  working,  and  at  times  to  the 
fermenting  activit}',  of  this  principle.  In 
Chaucer  we  find  it  mingling  in  strange 
ways,  and  giving  an  indefinable  cliarm  to 
his  simple  naturalism.  Then  to  wliat  are 
we  to  attribute  the  uniqueness  of  that  cen- 


IDEALISM  AND   EXI'EKIENCE  37 

tral  product  of  our  western  civilization  • — 
whose  api)earancc  marks  the  highest  point 
that  has  been  reached  in  the  literature  of 
the  world,  —  (our  luiglish  Shakespeare,)  — 
but  to  the  new  spirit  of  idealism  that 
blentled  with  his  realism  more  naturally 
and  more  completely  than  in  any  of  his 
predecessors  ;  the  one  tendency  giving  him 
his  breadth  and  range,  the  other  his  depth 
and  height ;  and  the  two  in  unison  giving 
him  unapproachable  strength  and  unique- 
ness in  literature.  The  modern  German 
renaissance,  under  Goethe  and  Schiller  as 
leaders,  —  but  which  shows  a  bright  con- 
stellation of  lesser  stars  around  these  two, 
—  was  characterized  by  an  equally  pro- 
found idealism.  The  literary  work  of  these 
men  allied  itself  naturally  to  the  philosophy 
of  Plato  amongst  the  ancients,  and  to  that 
of  Jacobi  and  Fichte  amongst  their  con- 
temporaries. When  we  recross  the  Chan- 
nel, and  examine  the  modern  English  po- 
etry, at  the  commencement  of  this  century, 
we  find  that  all  the  great  writers,  however 
diverse  the  type  of  their  genius,  were  ani- 
mated by  the  same  spirit,  and  developed 
the  same  tendencies.  We  may  take  a 
stanza  from  Shelley's  poem  To  the  Skylark 


38  USSAVS  I.V  PHILOSOPHY. 

as    the    metaphorical    embodiment    of   the 
whole  movement  :  — 

Higher  still,  and  higher 

From  the  earth  thou  springest, 
Like  a  cloud  of  fire  ; 

The  blue  deep  thou  wingest. 
And  singing  still  dost  soar,  and  soaring  ever  singest. 

If  now  for  the  sake  of  contrast  we  go 
back  to  the  period  of  the  Sophists  in 
Greece,  —  those  wonderfully  clever  talkers 
who  preceded  Socrates,  and  taught  rhetoric 
to  the  people,  —  we  find  that  these  men 
were  all  experientialists.  They  worked  with 
a  utilitarian  aim.  They  succeeded  in  de- 
veloping an  admirable  prose  style  ;  but 
there  was  no  poetry  amongst  the  Sophists, 
and  there  could  be  none.  Literary  effort 
turned  toward  the  higher  problems  of  hu- 
man destiny  would  have  been  distasteful  to 
them  ;  that  which  shouted  an  aspiration 
after  the  unattained  would  have  been  un- 
intelligible to  them.  But  when  the  ideal- 
istic reaction  began,  under  Socrates  and 
Plato,  we  find  a  parallel  development  in  lit- 
erary art,  preeminently  in  that  of  Sopho- 
cles. Similarly  in  the  long  Middle  Age, 
when  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle  was  all 
dominant    in  the  universities   and  schools 


IDEALISM  AXD   EX I'ELl i-.AC  11.         39 

of  Kurope,  scarcely  one  poetic  gleam  ir- 
radiated the  intellectual  firmament  ;  but 
when  the  literary  revival  set  in,  it  was  the 
star  of  Plato  that  first  rose  above  the  hori- 
zon in  the  Morentine  school,  under  the 
rule  of  the  Medici,  and  the  rise  of  Italian 
art  and  j^oetry  was  the  return  of  idealism. 

With  the  sixteenth  century  came  many 
new  lights  on  old  problems  ;  and  the  prose 
literature  of  the  Reformation  is  full  of 
ideal  tendencies.  The  sixteenth  is,  how- 
ever, a  difficult  century  to  deal  with. 
When  we  reach  the  eighteenth  our  footing 
is  surer,  and  the  illustrations  ready  to 
hand.  The  eighteenth  was,  in  many  re- 
spects, a  monumental  century,  and  it  is  easy 
to  see  how  the  dominant  philosophy  af- 
fected its  literature.  In  France  the  philos- 
ophy of  the  Encyclopaedists  was  supreme. 
In  the  last  decade  of  the  previous  century, 
Bayle's  Dictionary  had  been  published. 
In  the  earlier  part  of  the  eighteenth  came 
Voltaire,  Condillac,  Helvetius  ;  in  the  lat- 
ter half,  Diderot,  and  D'Alembert.  The 
idealism  of  Descartes,  of  IMalebranche,  and 
the  Port  Rovalists  had  again  given  place 
to  a  philosophy  of  experience.  It  was 
Aristotle  rcdiviviis,  with   the   best   part   of 


40  ESS  A  YS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

Aristotle  left  out.  In  England  the  philos- 
ophy of  Locke,  which  ushered  in  the  cen- 
tury, led  on  to  that  of  Hume,  Smith,  and 
Hartley.  The  prevailing  spirit  was  that 
of  analysis,  and  logical  test  ;  everything 
hitherto  received  being  dragged  into  the 
light,  subjected  to  cross-examination,  and 
compelled  to  exhibit  its  credentials.  It 
was  the  sophistic  era  of  modern  European 
philosophy  —  the  reappearance  of  the  old 
doctrine  of  experience  on  a  gigantic  na- 
tional scale.  The  result  on  the  literature 
and  the  art  of  the  period  is  noteworthy. 
Compare  it  with  the  state  of  matters  in  the 
seventeenth  century  in  France,  when  the 
Cartesian  idealism  was  still  coloring  the  lit- 
erature of  that  country,  and  producing  such 
results  as  Corneille  in  poetry  and  Claude 
Lorraine  in  art.  Of  French  poetry  in  the 
eighteenth  century  there  was  none.  There 
was  plenty  of  science,  and  a  good  deal  of 
excellent  political  economy  ;  but  it  was  a 
prosaic  era,  matter-of-fact  to  the  very  core, 
unideal  in  its  art,  and  as  to  all  imaginative 
work,  poverty-stricken.  Voltaire  is  the 
typical  child  of  the  era  and  the  movement. 
In  Britain  David  Hume  is  the  central  rep- 
resentative ;   and   the   prevailing   strain   of 


IDEALISM  AND   EX FEKIEAXi:.         41 

English  pt^etry  from  Addison  onwards  — 
through  Pope,  Young,  Dyer,  Akenside, 
Collins,  etc.  — is  utterly  unideal.  Of  course 
there  were  compensations.  There  was  a 
notable  development  of  literary  criticism, 
many  brilliant  essays,  histories,  and  nov- 
els ;  but  just  as  the  Greek  Sophists,  in  a  pe- 
riod of  disintegration  and  analysis,  contrib- 
uted nothing  toward  the  re-statement  or 
re-interpretation  of  the  i)erennial  problems, 
acquiescing  in  phenomena,  bowing  before 
the  omnipotence  of  events,  with  no  gleam 
of  aspiration,  no  touch  of  enthusiasm  — 
but  most  diligent  collectors  of  facts,  care- 
ful students  of  the  real,  and  attaining  to 
great  perfection  in  the  writing  of  clever 
prose  ^ — such  were  the  eighteenth  century 
Encyclopaedists  in  France  and  in  England, 
This  concentration  upon  facts  limited  the 
significance  and  the  value  of  the  contribu- 
tions which  they  made  to  literature. 

The  two  tendencies  —  the  idealistic  and 
the  realistic  —  have  a  notable  illustration 
in  the  way  in  which  the  histories  of  na- 
tions have  been  written.  We  have  empir- 
ical historians  and  ideal  historians.  We 
have  historians  who  are  merely  analysts  or 
recorders,  the  chroniclers  of  events  ;   and 


42  ESSAYS  IX  PHILOSOPHY. 

we  have  historians  who  are  interpreters, 
who  tell  us  what  events  signify,  who  divine 
their  causes,  and  appraise  their  inner 
meaning,  as  well  as  narrate  their  outcome 
or  their  issues.  It  may  be  thought  that 
what  we  mainly  need  in  a  book  of  history 
is  an  accurate  chronicle,  and  that  what 
posterity  will  chiefly  require  is  literal  de- 
tail, rigid  matter-of-factness.  In  the  first 
place,  however,  the  dry  record  of  fact 
never  satisfies  the  student  of  history.  Life- 
less statistics  are  as  dull  reading  as  lists 
of  dates,  or  words  in  a  dictionary.  In  the 
second  place,  we  do  not  escape  inaccuracy, 
or  get  any  nearer  to  reality,  by  the  help  of 
histories  written  after  that  fashion.  The 
historian  has  to  deal  not  with  automata, 
but  with  the  living  characters  of  a  bygone 
age  ;  and,  as  he  brings  his  pieces  on  the 
chess-board  of  his  chronicle,  he  must  show 
them  to  us  living,  moving,  and  struggling, 
as  they  once  did  in  the  flesh,  and  not  pre- 
sent us  with  a  mere  lifeless  epitome  of 
their  deeds.  The  idealist  is  in  a  better 
position  for  writing  a  faithful  history  than 
the  experientialist  is,  because  he  is  more 
likely  to  take  account  of  the  interior 
springs  of  conduct,  and  the  multitudinous 


IDEALISM  AX  I)   EXrERIENCE.         43 

hidden  forces  that  sway  liuman  action. 
Similarly,  we  have  realist  and  idealist  biog- 
raphies ;  the  former  giving  only  the  dry 
bones  of  fact,  a  skeleton  of  events,  the 
latter  giving  an  interpretation  of  them. 

Turning  now  to  the  outcome  of  the  two 
tendencies  (the  ideal  and  the  real)  in  Art, 
the  illustrations  are  even  more  evident. 
Art,  in  all  its  sections,  deals  with  the  beau- 
tiful ;  but,  to  the  philosophy,  or  the  doc- 
trine—  for  it  cannot  be  called  a  philosophy 
except  by  courtesy — which  traces  every- 
thing back  to  sensation,  the  beautiful  is 
simply  that  which  pleases  us.  It  has  no 
intrinsic  place  or  significance  in  objects  be- 
yond us.  According  to  this  doctrine  there 
is  nothing  essentially  beautiful,  or  inher- 
ently admirable,  in  the  universe.  The  dif- 
ference —  which  is  an  all  important  one 
to  the  opposite  philosophy  —  between  what 
happens  to  be  agreeable  and  what  is  in 
itself  beautiful  is  ignored.  All  standards 
are  relative  or  accidental.  Empiricism  in 
Art  virtually  says  they  are  all  good  enough 
in  their  way,  because  they  have  happened 
to  emerge,  but  there  is  nothing  inherent 
in  any  one  of  them.  Idealism  in  Art 
affirms,  on  the  contrary,  that  there  is  but 


44  /iSSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

one  absolute  standard  of  the  beautiful, 
which  all  workers  in  Art  endeavor  to  reach, 
and  realize  in  various  ways,  but  to  which 
no  one  ever  fully  attains. 

If  we  now  examine  the  effect  of  the  two 
tendencies  on  the  history  of  Art,  and  on 
the  course  of  its  development,  we  find  that 
the  effect  of  empiricism  on  the  French  art 
of  the  eighteenth  century  was  precisely 
similar  to  its  influence  on  literature.  In 
that  dull  century  there  was  no  art  worthy 
of  the  name.  It  was  the  era  and  the  pe- 
riod of  the  illumination,  as  it  was  pre- 
surqptuously  called, — because  there  was 
really  no  light  on  ultimate  questions,  — - 
unless  the  term  was  adopted  on  the  satiri- 
cal principle  of  luciis  a  non  hiccndo.  When 
the  Encyclopsedists  were  the  dictators  of 
Europe  in  mental  science  and  in  literature, 
all  knowledge  being  traced  back  to  sensa- 
tion and  represented  as  its  outgrowth.  Art 
became  of  necessity  mechanical  and  pro- 
saic. It  grew  formal  and  technical,  rigid 
in  its  conformity  to  rule  and  precedent, 
devoid  of  originality,  deficient  even  in  free- 
dom. What  a  descent  from  the  strong 
men,  who,  breathing  the  air  of  the  Carte- 
sian idealism,  had  glorified  the  French  art 


IDEALISM  AND  EXPERIENCE.       45 

of  tlie  seventeenth  century,  llie  eigh- 
teenth is,  of  all  modern  eras,  the  one  in 
which  empiricism  in  Art  most  distinctively 
flourished.  The  period  in  which  itlealism 
flourished  most  was  from  the  fourteenth 
to  the  si.xteenth  century,  especially  in  the 
f;reat  Tuscan  school  of  Italy.  Contempo- 
raneously with  its  outburst  in  the  poetry 
of  Dante  was  its  early  embodiment  in 
the  art  of  Giotto,  and  Niccola  Pisano,  and 
such  of  their  successors  as  Donatcllo,  Fra 
Angelico,  Lucca  de  la  Robbia,  Filippo 
Lippi,  Girlandaio,  till  we  come  down  to 
Bellini,  in  whom  the  two  tendencies  —  the 
natural  and  the  ideal  —  were  united.  In 
Giovanni  Bellini  we  find  the  most  consum- 
mate perfection  of  execution  combined 
with  rare  ideal  features  ;  but  when  we  pass 
Bellini  and  the  almost  equally  noticeable 
Botticelli  and  Carpaccio,  and  —  omitting 
Raphael  —  come  down  to  Titian  and  Tin- 
toretto, we  find  that  the  mere  power  of 
technical  mastery  in  dealing  with  subjects 
(/.  c,  the  literal  and  the  actual)  interfered 
with  the  ideal,  and  almost  brushed  it  aside. 
It  pushed  out  the  imaginative  expression 
of  art  ;  and  the  result  was  that,  with  all 
their  perfection  of  form,  and  gorgcousness 


46  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  color,  there  was  a  certain  coarseness  in 
these  later  Venetian  masters.  We  miss 
the  nobler  reserve  and  refinement  of  their 
predecessors. 

Mr.  Ruskin  has  written  much,  and  to 
profit,  on  this  subject  throughout  his 
works  ;  but  he  has  said  nothing  better,  and 
nothing  so  clear,  as  Browning  has  done  in 
several  of  his  lyrics,  most  notably  in  the 
poem  called  Old  Pictures  in  Florence.  The 
theme  of  this  poem  is  the  contrast  between 
Greek  art  and  the  art  of  Christendom. 
After  a  fine  exordium,  the  comparison  is 
drawn. 

May  I  take  upon  me  to  instruct  you  .' 
When  Greek  Art  ran  and  reached  the  goal, 

Thus  much  had  the  world  to  boast  iii  f7-nctii  — 
The  Truth  of  Man,  as  by  God  first  spoken. 

Which  the  actual  generations  garble 
Was  re-uttered. 

Then  he  gives  the  effect  of  this  Greek  art. 

So,  vou  saw  yourself  as  you  wished  vou  were. 

As  you  might  have  been,  as  you  cannot  be  ; 
Earth  here,  rebuked  by  Olympus  there  : 

And  grew  content  in  your  ])oor  degree, 
W^ith  your  little  power,  by  those  statues'  godhead, 

And  your  little  scope,  by  their  eyes'  full  sway, 
And  your  little  grace,  by  tiieir  grace  embodied, 

And  your  little  date,  by  their  forms  that  stay. 


IDEALISM  AND  EXPERIENCE.        47 

So,  testing  your  weakness  by  their  strength, 
Vour  meagre  charms  l)y  their  rounded  beauty, 

Measured  by  Art  in  your  breadth  and  length. 
You  learned  —  to  submit  is  a  mortal's  duty. 

And  now  note,  in  contrast  to  this  sub- 
mission before  the  omnipotence  of  realized 
fact,  —  which  was  the  outcome  or  final  les- 
son of  Greek  art,  —  the  counter  truth  and 
the  counter  tendency. 

Cirowth  came  when,  looking  your  last  on  them  all, 

Vou  turned  your  eyes  inwardly  one  fine  day, 
.•\nd  cried  with  a  start  —  What  if  we  so  small 

l^e  greater  and  grander  the  while  than  they  .' 
Are  they  perfect  of  lineament,  perfect  of  stature  .'' 

In  both,  of  such  lower  types  are  we 
Precisclv  because  of  our  wider  nature  ; 

For  time,  theirs  —  ours,  for  eternity. 

To-day's  brief  passion  limits  their  range, 

It  seethes  with  the  morrow  for  us  and  more. 
They  are  perfect  — how  else  .'  they  shall  never  change  : 

We  are  faulty  —  why  not .'  we  have  time  in  store. 
The  Artificer's  hand  is  not  arrested 

With  us;  we  are  rough-hewn,  no-wise  polished  : 
They  stand  for  our  copy,  and,  once  invested 

With  all  they  can  teach,  we  shall  see  them  abolished. 

It  was  under  the  inspiration  of  this  idea 
that,  accordini,^  to  Browning,  the  early 
Florentine  painters  worked  ;  feeling  that 
they  themselves  and  their  contemporaries, 
with  their  present  aims  and    coming  des- 


48  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

tiny,  were  more  worthy  of  representation 
by  art  than  any  of  the  old  forms  of  the 
Greek  divinities,  which  expressed  but  the 
fleeting  fashion  of  their  day  ;  and  so 
Browning  continues  :  — 

On  which  I  conclude,  that  the  early  pamters, 

To  cries  of  "  Greek  Art  and  what  more  wish  you  ?"  — 
Replied,  "  To  become  new  self-acquainters. 

And  paint  man,  man,  whatever  the  issue! 
Make  new  hopes  shine  through  the  flesh  they  fray, 

New  fears  aggrandize  the  rags  and  tatters  : 
To  bring  the  invisible  full  into  play ! 

Let  the  visible  go  to  the  dogs  —  what  matters  ?  " 

Give  these,  I  exhort  you,  their  guerdon  and  glory 
For  daring  so  much,  before  they  well  did  it. 

The  first  of  the  new,  in  our  race's  story 

Beats  the  last  of  the  old  ;  'tis  no  idle  quiddit. 

Perhaps  in  all  literature  there  is  no 
better  or  juster  explanation  of  the  differ- 
ence between  Greek  art  and  the  art 
of  Christendom  ;  the  preeminence  of  the 
former  consisting  in  its  finished  though 
limited  perfection  —  its  aim  to  find  within 
the  finite  the  end  or  goal  of  endeavor ; 
and  the  higher  merit,  the  preeminence  of 
the  latter,  consisting  in  its  dissatisfaction 
with  the  most  perfect  expression  of  the 
finite,  and  its  effort  to  rise  thence  toward 
the  Infinite. 


IDEALISM  AN/)   EXPERIENCK.         49 

There  is  mo"e,  however,  to  be  said  on  the 
contrast  between  these  two  tendencies  in 
Art  —  between  Literality,  witli  imitation 
as  its  end  and  aim,  and  Ideality,  with  sug- 
gestion as  its  end  and  aim. 

Empiricism  is,  of  course,  always  magni- 
fying experience,  at  the  expense  of  other 
tendencies.  Well  !  let  us  go  to  experience, 
that  we  may  test  empiricism  in  Art.  In 
entering  any  of  the  modern  galleries,  it 
does  not  require  one  to  have  mastered 
Plato's  Philosophy  of  the  Beautiful  to  be 
able  to  tell  at  once  what  pictures  are  in- 
spired by  idealism,  and  what  are  not, 
whether  they  be  landscape  or  fir^ure  paint- 
ings. In  landscape,  the  most  perfect  pic- 
ture is  not  one  which  is  a  mere  imitation 
of  nature,  a  semi-photographic  reproduc- 
tion of  it.  It  is  rather  one  which  gives  us 
a  divination  of  its  meaning,  a  disclosure 
of  its  latent  soul.  Such  pictures  as  those 
of  Turner  —  by  far  the  greatest  landscape 
artist  that  ever  lived — -pictures  in  which 
Nature  is  glorified  by  the  "light  that  never 
was  on  sea  or  land,"  these  are  the  outcome 
of  idealism,  or  idealistic  vision  in  Art. 
Similarly  in  portraiture  the  most  perfect 
triumph    is   not   an    exact   reproduction    of 


50  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

the  outward  appearance  of  the  human  face 
or  figure.  It  is  not  even  a  transcript  of 
one  particular  mood,  but  it  is  the  blending 
of  many  different  moods  into  a  likeness, 
in  which  expression  is  all  dominant,  and 
which  combines  in  a  unity  what  the  per- 
son thus  represented  has  formerly  revealed 
on  many  different  occasions,  and  which  is 
therefore  a  truer  interpretation  of  charac- 
ter behind  the  mask  of  physiognomy  than 
the  most  perfect  photograph  could  be. 

Suppose  that  we  had,  in  any  art  gallery, 
such  a  transcript  of  reality  that,  as  in  the 
Greek  story,  the  very  birds  of  the  air  were 
deceived,  and  came  to  pick  the  fruit  from 
the  canvas,  or  a  painted  curtain  was  mis- 
taken for  a  real  one,  would  it  satisfy  any 
one  as  a  high  triumph  of  Art?  It  might 
satisfy  a  photographer,  but  it  would  not 
even  please  a  trained  artistic  eye.  One 
who  has  found  out  the  secret  of  the  beau- 
tiful wishes  no  such  deceptive  mimicry. 
If  Art  were  the  mere  imitation  of  Nature, 
many  would  discard  it,  and  prefer  the 
thing  it  imitated,  viz.,  Nature  itself.  The 
truth  is  that  the  best  art  always  leads 
from  Nature  to  a  Reality  beyond  it,  and 
the  ideal  artist  tries  to  embody  on   canvas 


IDEALISM  Al^n   EXPEKIEA'CE.         5  I 

what  has  never  been  disclosed  to  the  sense 
of  sight. 

"  Imitate  Nature,"  say  the  Realists  ;  "  re- 
produce what  is  before  your  eyes,  and  you 
can't  go  wrong."  Now,  even  if  this  were 
the  true  artistic  rule,  —  which  it  is  not,  — 
the  question  would  remain.  What  is  Na- 
ture .''  and  that  is  a  point  by  no  means  so 
easily  determined  as  may  appear  upon  the 
surface.  There  are  as  many  different  and 
conflicting  theories  of  Nature  as  there  are 
of  Life.  If  Nature  be  not  dead  inanimate 
substance,  but  a  living  force  beneath  ma- 
terial forms,  a  creative  source  of  energy 
endlessly  changing,  and  everlastingly  re- 
newing itself,  the  reproduction  or  repre- 
sentation of  this  by  Art  will  be  something 
very  different  from  the  photograph  of  a 
single  passing  phase  which  it  may  have 
chanced  to  assume.  Here  it  is  that  we 
discern  the  power  and  the  perennial 
charm  of  the  landscape  art  of  Turner.  He 
never  reproduced  a  single  passing  phase 
of  Nature  ;  but,  by  that  marvelous  second- 
sight  of  his,  by  the  "  power  of  a  peculiar 
eye,"  he  blended  into  one  many  separate 
and  fugitive  impressions,  and  brought  them 
to  a  luminous  focus.     He  fused  them  to- 


52  ESSAYS  IN  nilLOSOPHY. 

gether,  not  artificially  but  naturally,  so 
that  the  result  was  no  fanciful  invention, 
—  which  would  have  been  a  travesty  of 
Nature, — but  a  divination  of  her  inmost 
spirit,  disclosed  to  him  through  a  multi- 
tude of  her  forms.  "  Turner  took  liberties 
with  Nature,"  say  some  of  his  realistic 
critics,  who  have  no  inward  eye  like  his. 
He  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  He  only  took 
this  liberty  with  each  passing  mood  of  Na- 
ture, that  he  thrust  it  aside,  if  it  interfered 
with  others  which  were  quite  as  real  and 
worthy  of  representation  ;  and  he  combined 
the  many  in  the  one,  as  no  painter  had 
ever  done  before  him,  making  the  fugitive 
permanent  by  the  idealization  of  his  art. 
Every  one  knows  that  the  face  of  Nature 
is  often  commonplace.  Dull  skies,  or 
hard  gray  weather,  a  monotony  of  cloud, 
or  continual  mist  ;  these  things  no  artist 
would  select  for  reproduction  on  canvas. 
But  the  idealist  does  not  merely  select  the 
more  beautiful  forms,  and  combine  them 
into  a  fresh  product.  He  goes  beneath 
them  all.  While  Nature  is  forever  chang- 
ing, is  in  incessant  ebb  and  flow,  he  di- 
vines its  underlying  essence  ;  and,  knowing 
by  intuition   how  the  spirit  of  the  beauti- 


IDEALISM  AND   EXPKKIENCl:.         53 

ful  clothes  itself  in  the  vesture  of  form, 
he  does  not  care  whether  he  has  seen  what 
he  actually  portrays  literally  unfolded  be- 
fore the  eye  of  sense.  He  has  seen  it 
floating  in  more  glorious  vision  before  the 
eye  of  the  spirit,  and  he  knows  it  to  be 
truer  than  any  photograph — or  the  instan- 
taneous reproduction  of  a  passing  mood 
of  Nature  —  could  possibly  be. 

We  must  also  remember  that  in  physical 
Nature  imperfection  mingles  with  every 
fragment  of  the  beautiful  that  exists. 
Beauty  is  often  hid  behind  the  ugly,  and 
within  the  commonplace  ;  and  Art  pursues 
the  beauty,  marred  and  mutilated  as  it 
constantly  is  by  deformity.  As  Tennyson 
puts  it,  — 

That  type  of  perfect  in  the  mind 
In  Nature  we  can  nowhere  find. 

But  all  Art  is  a  sort  of  bridge  flung  across 
the  chasm  which  separates  the  actual  from 
the  ideal,  the  real  from  the  transcendent. 

We  have  noted  the  relation  in  which  the 
art  of  Christendom  stands  to  the  prece- 
dent art  of  Hellenism  ;  but  it  is  to  be  ob- 
served that  the  latter  had  its  ideal  as  well 
as  the  former,  and  drew  all  its  inspiration 
from  it.    Greece  was  emphatically  the  land 


54  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  the  ideal,  and  the  Hellenic  civilization 
embodied  it  in  a  multitude  of  ways  to  the 
ancient  world.  Take  Greek  sculpture,  for 
example.  To  what  do  we  owe  the  majesty 
and  the  radiance  of  the  gods  of  Greece .'' 
In  part,  perhaps,  to  the  free  and  joyous 
energy  of  the  Hellenic  people  ;  but  far 
more  to  that  conception  of  Nature  which 
was  current  in  the  noblest  period  of  their 
history ;  and  to  the  idea  that  the  outward 
form  was,  at  its  best,  an  embodiment  of 
something  higher  than  itself.  If  we  had 
the  finest  sculptures  of  the  age  of  Pericles 
before  us,  we  could  not  find  their  secret, 
until  we  passed  beyond  the  form  to  the 
thought  underlying  it,  to  the  soul  within 
the  substance  of  the  marble,  the  immate- 
rial hinted  at  and  expressed  by  the  material. 
The  art  of  Phidias  was  an  appeal  from  sense 
to  soul,  from  the  outward  to  the  inward. 

The  Greek  artists  were  not  copyists  of 
the  actual.  Their  imagination  was  too  in- 
tense and  varied  in  its  energy,  to  permit 
of  their  being  satisfied  with  any  single  em- 
bodiment of  beauty,  however  perfect  ;  and 
their  art  may  be  said  to  have  been  a  histor- 
ical protest  against  realism,  and  the  mere 
imitation  either  of  Nature  or  of  man.     The 


IDEALISM  AND   EXri-KJENCE.         55 

copyist  sees  only  one  of  the  fugitive  phases 
of  the  thing  he  copies.  Both  Nature  and 
man,  however,  assume  new  aspects  every 
instant.  They  do  not  tarry  to  be  repro- 
duced as  they  are,  at  any  given  moment 
of  time.  Thus  the  evanescence  of  each 
sample  of  the  beautiful  disclosed  to  the 
senses  —  and  the  fragmentariness  of  the 
whole  series  —  sends  us  in  quest  of  a  beauty 
that  is  one  and  not  manifold,  that  is  con- 
stant and  not  changing.  We  pursue  the 
infinitely  beautiful  through  all  the  illusions 
of  finite  beauty,  and  our  dissatisfaction 
with  each  embodiment  of  it  urges  us  on- 
ward in  pursuit  of  that  ideal,  of  which 
Plato  in  the  Sjinposiiun  sings  the  praise. 
Those  finite  and  detached  specimens  of 
beauty  —  which  we  find  in  Poetry,  Paint- 
ing, Music,  and  Architecture  respectively, 
—  are  at  times  distracting,  from  their  very 
multiplicity,  their  immense  variety,  and 
still  more  from  their  changefulness.  W'e 
therefore  go  in  search  of  some  key  which 
will  explain  each,  by  unfolding  its  relation 
to  the  rest,  and  to  the  unity  which  under- 
lies them  all.  Without  this  key,  the  ex- 
perience of  fresh  beauty  might  even  induce 
a  sense   of   weariness  ;    but  with   it,   each 


56  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOl HY. 

successive  instance  —  which  illustrates  the 
unity  in  the  light  of  the  variety  —  has  the 
charm  of  novelty.  The  reason  is  obvious. 
It  is  because  the  key,  or  the  explanation 
of  the  new  experience,  does  not  come  out 
of  an  old  one,  but  from  that  which  tran- 
scends new  and  old  alike  ;  while  it  is  the 
conviction  that  the  highest  beauty  is  un- 
representable by  Art,  or  inexpressible  by 
means  of  it,  that  gives  its  chief  interest 
to  all  the  approximations  which  shadow  it 
forth. 

In  connection  with  this  we  may  note 
that  Raphael  —  who  was  not  so  idealistic 
as  his  predecessors  —  tells  us  that  "as  he 
could  not  find  perfect  beauty  in  the  actual, 
he  made  use  of  an  ideal  which  he  formed 
for  himself;"  although  I  would  rather  say 
which  he  found  within  himself,  and  which 
nothing  appealing  to  the  eye  or  to  the  ear 
could  possibly  disclose  to  him. 

The  mention  of  the  ear,  as  another  chan- 
nel through  which  the  beautiful  reveals 
itself,  leads  to  the  consideration  of  Music 
or  Musical  Art. 

The  distinction  between  the  ideal  and 
the  actual  is  quite  as  apparent  in  Music  as 
it   is  in  anv  of   the   sister  arts  ;    and    our 


IDEALISM  AND   EXl'EKIEi\Cl:.         57 

modern  music  has  opened  up  a  new  chan- 
nel of  approach  to  the  ideal  which  is  pecu- 
liarly and  distinctively  its  own.  Through 
this  medium  we  can,  more  easily  than 
tlirough  any  other,  escape  from  the  thral- 
dom of  sense,  and  enter  the  wonderland  of 
ideality.  Music  requires  no  phenomenal 
medium  like  canvas  and  oils,  or  marble,  or 
stone,  or  wood,  by  which  to  embody  its 
ideal ;  and  hence  the  great  musicians  are 
less  copyists  of  one  another  than  other 
artists  are,  and  therefore  perhaps  they  get 
closer  to  reality. 

If  we  compare  the  majestic  creations  of 
John  Sebastian  Bach,  the  Shakespearean 
wealth  of  inspiration  to  which  Beethoven 
attained,  the  height  to  which  Handel  and 
Mozart  carry  us  in  their  oratorios  and 
masses,  the  ethereal  grace  of  Schumann, 
the  majesty  of  Wagner,  and  the  depth  of 
Brahms,  with  the  modern  Italian  opera, 
the  same  distinction  which  we  have  traced 
in  pictorial  art  will  be  apparent.  It  is 
worthy  of  note,  in  passing,  that  while  it 
is  to  Italy  that  we  are  mainly  indebted  for 
idealism  in  painting,  it  is  to  Germany  that 
we  owe  idealism  in  music,  as  well  as  in 
philosophy.      It  is  true  that  in  music  we 


58  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

have  not  the  same  sharp  Hnes  of  contrast 
drawn  between  the  two  schools  or  tenden- 
cies, such  as  we  have  in  philosophy,  po- 
etry, and  painting.  It  is  also  true  that  in 
many  a  symphony,  as  in  many  an  oratorio, 
there  is  much  of  both  tendencies.  The 
reason  perhaps  is  that  music,  being  an  ex- 
tremely delicate  and  subtle  medium  for 
the  expression  of  emotion,  we  have  of  ne- 
cessity mi.xed  effects  in  almost  every  great 
creation.  In  a  sonata,  as  in  a  lyric  song, 
we  may  in  one  part  {as  in  one  stanza)  be 
in  the  highest  regions  of  ideality  ;  and, 
in  another,  we  may  descend,  if  not  to  the 
materialistic  level,  at  least  to  the  terres- 
trial side  of  things.  One  has  only  to  re- 
call the  effect  produced  by  some  oratorios 
(or  single  choruses  in  an  oratorio),  by 
many  a  mass,  and  many  a  sonata,  —  the 
sense  not  of  freedom  only,  but  of  aspira- 
tion and  flight,  of  escape  from  the  dull  pro- 
saic flats  of  existence  to  a  more  ethereal 
region,  —  and  compare  it  with  the  effect 
produced  by  common  dance-music,  or  by 
such  a  song  as  "Willie  brewed  a  peck  o' 
maut  "  !  I  say  nothing  against  the  dance- 
music  or  the  song.  They  have  their  place, 
their  function,  and  their  charm.  It  is  only 
necessary  to  bring  out  the  contrast. 


IDEALISM  AND  EXPERIENCE.         59 

The  great  composers  have  doubtless  fol- 
lowed the  scientific  laws  of  Art  in  writing 
their  most  ideal  pieces  ;  but,  in  proportion 
to  their  originality,  they  have  broken 
through  the  trammels  of  precedent.  They 
have  risen  above  bondage  to  the  actual, 
and  breathed  into  the  otherwise  dry  bones 
of  musical  structure  the  breath  of  their 
own  life.  There  is  a  story  told  of  Bee- 
thoven that  when  some  one  said  to  him 
that  a  particular  passage  in  one  of  his  com- 
positions was  incorrect,  and  could  not  be 
allowed  by  the  lav/s  of  musical  composi- 
tion, he  replied,  "  Then  /  allow  it  ;  let  that 
be  its  justification."  Here  we  see  the  cre- 
ative artist,  the  idealist,  breaking  away 
from  the  slavery  of  use  and  wont,  and  tak- 
ing a  new  departure  by  the  originality  of 
his  insight. 

Speaking  of  his  symphonies,  Beethoven 
said,  "  I  feel  that  there  is  an  eternal  and 
infinite  to  be  attained.  Music  ushers  man 
into  the  portal  of  an  intellectual  world, 
ready  always  to  encompass  him,  but  which 
he  may  never  encompass."  In  this  sen- 
tence we  see  Beethoven's  recognition  of 
the  vastness  of  the  Ideal  encircling,  and 
enveloping,  and  pressing  upon  him  contin- 


6o  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

ually.  It  suggests  the  lines  in  the  Ranolf 
and  AmoJiia  of  Alfred  Domett,  referring 
to  Browning's  Sordello,  — 

The  vast  ideal's  glare, 
Blasting  the  real,  to  its  own  dumb  despair. 

No  one  who  has  any  music  in  his  own 
soul  can  fail  to  be  aware  of  the  fact  that 
there  are  some  composers  who  not  only 
open  for  us  a  door,  as  it  were,  into  the 
"  house  called  beautiful,"  but  who  compel 
us  to  go  in  with  them  ;  and  who,  when  we 
have  entered,  discourse  to  us  in  such  a 
way  that  the  sense  both  of  discord  and  il- 
lusion vanishes  for  the  time,  in  the  revela- 
tion of  a  transcendent  harmony  ;  who  help 
us  to  escape  from  the  glamour  of  mere 
appearance,  the  wearisome  reiterations  of 
the  actual,  and  who  take  us  closer  to  exist- 
ence, to  the  "last  clear  elements  of  things," 
than  when  we  are  in  familiar  contact  with 
the  phenomena  of  sense.  Listen  to  the 
Waldstein  sonata,  or  to  Beethoven's  sym- 
phony in  C  minor,  or  to  the  second  of  his 
sonatas  dedicated  to  Hadyn,  and  you  feel 
that  a  power  is  at  work,  carrying  you  out 
of  the  realm  of  sensation  into  that  of 
thought,  —  to  a  Rock  that  is  higher  than 
you,  —  and  disclosing  your  relations  to  the 


IDEALISM  AS'D   EXPKKIENCF..         6l 

Infinite.  You  find  your  nature  expanded, 
and  your  consciousness,  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  freed  and  deepened.  Similarly, 
there  are  other  composers  who  keep  us 
enchained  to  the  actual,  and  never  allow 
us  to  outsoar  it,  in  any  idealization  of  the 
real.  The  former  class  are  all  inspired  — 
whether  they  know  it,  or  are  ignorant  of 
it  —  by  the  spirit  of  Plato;  the  latter  are 
—  consciously,  or  unconsciously  —  the  dis- 
ciples of  Aristotle. 

There  are  nearly  as  many  different 
schools  of  music  as  there  are  of  poetry  ; 
the  two  extremes  being,  on  the  one  side, 
the  surface  brilliancy  which  wc  have  in  the 
larger  part  of  the  Italian  opera,  and  on  the 
other  the  "great  German  ocean"  (as  it 
has  been  aptly  called)  of  the  symphony 
and  the  sonata,  of  the  mass  and  the  orato- 
rio,—  in  which  we  have  height  and  depth 
combined,  strength,  pathos,  tenderness, 
and  endless  suggestiveness. 

We  now  come  to  the  influence  of  the 
two  rival  tendencies  on  individual  and 
national  character.  In  this  connection  I 
must  note  not  only  the  bearing  of  the 
opposite  philosophies  on  the  individual, 
but  also  the  conception  of  the  individual 


62  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

to  which  they  respectively  give  rise.  Ac- 
cording to  the  one,  every  human  being  has 
a  separate  value,  an  individual  worth  ;  and 
with  each  endless  possibilities  areupbound. 
According  to  the  other,  each  is  like  a  wave 
of  the  sea,  which  arises  on  the  surface  and 
falls  again  ;  that  is  to  say,  he  is  an  acci- 
dental element  in  existence,  fraught  with 
no  special  significance,  and  destined  to 
none.  The  social  and  political  outcome 
of  this  doctrine  will  be  apparent.  A  utili- 
tarian doctrine  of  morals  is  almost  invari- 
ably associated  with,  a  sensational  theory 
of  the  origin  of  knowledge.  If  all  our 
knowledge  comes  from  sense,  and  may  on 
the  last  analysis  be  traced  back  to  it,  then 
all  our  actions  must  spring  from  motives 
of  self-interest  and  aggrandizement.  On 
this  theory,  the  rules  of  action  which  hap- 
pen to  sway  the  individual  have  no  sanc- 
tion higher  than  experience,  inherited 
through  ages  and  generations.  Universal 
custom,  or  the  developed  tendencies  of  the 
race,  constitute  his  rule  of  action. 

The  idealist  does  not  underrate  the  force 
or  the  significance  of  such  a  rule.  It  has  a 
most  venerable  ancestry,  and  indisputable 
secular  authority.     As  it  brings  with  it  the 


IDEALISM  AND   EXPERIENCE.        63 

prestige  of  all  past  experience,  its  claim 
to  be  listened  to  is  great.  But  then  the 
opposite  philosophy  of  idealism  leads  the 
individual  to  recognize  a  law  of  conduct, 
at  once  "in  him,  yet  not  of  him,"  to  find 
himself  under  no  mere  custom,  which  has 
happened  to  emerge  in  the  struggle  for 
existence,  but  an  absolute  rule  of  right, 
which  has  been  evolved  within  the  race, 
but  is  superior  to  it,  and  is  therefore  not 
derived  from  it. 

Here,  as  formerly,  our  concern  is  not 
with  the  evidence  on  which  these  rival 
philosophies  of  ethics  repose,  or  by  which 
they  have  been  respectively  championed. 
It  is  with  the  outcome  or  effect  of  each 
respectively  on  character.  The  prevalence 
of  the  one  or  the  other  of  them  at  a  partic- 
ular time  has  been  largely  due  to  tempera- 
mental causes,  and  there  are  many  advan- 
tages and  many  disadvantages  associated 
with  each.  These  ought  to  be  impartially 
recognized.  The  effect  of  idealism  is  un- 
questionably to  elevate  the  character  that 
is  pervaded  by  it.  Sometimes,  it  is  true, 
its  presence  makes  one  visionary,  or  quix- 
otic. It  has  been  even  known  to  make  its 
votary  indifferent  to  that  side  of  life  which 


64  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

connects  us  with  the  world  as  it  is.  The 
unsatisfactory  side  of  every-day  experience 
pressing  forcibly  upon  him,  he  takes  ref- 
uge in  Utopias,  in  order  that  he  may  es- 
cape from  the  illusions  of  the  actual.  Con- 
sequently the  idealist  often  misses  much 
of  the  satisfaction  which  he  might  derive 
—  and  which  others  derive  —  from  the 
world  as  it  is. 

On  the  other  hand,  no  dispassionate  stu- 
dent of  history,  and  of  historical  biography, 
can  fail  to  see  that  whenever  the  empirical 
philosophy  has  been  in  the  ascendant,  the 
character  of  the  nation,  or  of  the  period, 
has  become  prosaic  and  commonplace.  It 
may  have  been  extremely  shrewd,  in  the 
midst  of  its  commonplace  —  all  the  more 
shrewd,  vivacious,  and  sparkling,  perhaps, 
from  the  absence  of  ideality  (as  in  the 
period  of  the  French  enlightenment  in  the 
eighteenth  century)  ;  but  as  it  gradually 
sinks  to  the  matter-of-fact  level,  it  at  the 
same  time  degenerates  to  the  common- 
place. 

The  two  tendencies  may  be  compared 
as  follows.  We  have,  on  the  one  hand, 
contentedncss  with  the  actual,  acquies- 
cence in  its  limits,  an  abject  deference  to 


IDEALISM  AND  EX/'EA'IEACK.        65 

facts,  without  any  attempt  to  rise  above 
them.  We  have,  on  the  other  hand,  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  restlessness,  but  with  the 
restlessness,  aspiration  ;  an  effort  to  sur- 
mount hindrance,  and  to  rise,  on  what  have 
well  been  named  "  the  stepping-stones  of 
our  dead  selves,"  to  higher  things.  The 
effect  of  the  pursuit  of  ideals  on  personal 
character  is  unquestionably  great.  These 
ideals  are  often  cast  down  by  experience, 
but  they  are  not  therefore  destroyed.  Al- 
though many  of  them  can  never  be 
wrought  out  or  realized,  and  many  of  them 
are  destined  to  change,  —  it  does  not  fol- 
low that  any  one  of  them  has  been  useless. 
The  very  destiny  of  each  ideal  that  is  cher- 
ished is  to  give  place  to  another,  still  loft- 
ier ;  and  this  is  accomplished  without  jeal- 
ousy, and  without  regret.  A  life  contented 
with  this,  which  pursues  the  even  tenor  of 
its  way  with  no  ideality  or  aspiration,  is 
apt  to  be  at  once  jealous  of  rivals,  and  sus- 
picious of  change.  By  the  pursuit  of  his 
ideals,  however,  and  by  exchanging  one 
for  another  successively,  the  idealist  gets 
nearer  to  reality  than  the  expericntialist 
does,  by  keeping  to  the  prosaic  facts  which 
obtrude  upon  the  senses.     He  has  a  wider 


66  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

range  of  vision,  a  more  comprehensive 
outlook ;  and  his  very  dissatisfaction  with 
the  actual  becomes  to  him  the  happiest 
augury  that  he  can  outstep  his  past  attain- 
ments, and  transcend  his  former  experi- 
ence. In  comparing  the  characters  of  the 
representative  men  who  respectively  illus- 
trate these  two  streams  of  tendency,  one 
may  see  the  self-complacency  and  satisfac- 
tion of  the  experientialist,  his  contented- 
ness  with  facts  and  laws.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  idealist,  his 
sense  of  the  poverty  of  experience,  is  ap- 
parent ;  but  associated  with  this  there  is  a 
stimulus  to  fresh  endeavor,  which  lifts  him 
out  of  the  ruts  of  commonplace,  and  gives 
him  wing. 

How  the  two  tendencies  operate  respec- 
tively on  society  at  large  is  also  instruc- 
tive. When  even  the  experience  philoso- 
phy is  in  the  ascendant,  the  liberty  of  the 
individual  is  more  or  less  imperiled.  One 
of  the  corollaries  of  that  philosophy  being 
that  "might  is  right,"  the  freedom  of  the 
units  in  the  body  corporate  is  lessened, 
when  it  gains  the  ascendancy.  If  individ- 
uals and  races  are  regarded  merely  as 
waves  that  rise  out  of  the  sea  of  existence, 


IDEALISM  AND   EXPERIENCE.  6/ 

and  fall  back  to  it  again,  the  natural  con- 
clusion will  be  that  the  units  composing 
the  mass  may  be  utilized  for  the  common 
weal.  They  may  be  regarded,  for  example, 
as  good  fighting  material,  good  for  forming 
battalions,  and  may  be  dealt  with  accord- 
ingly in  the  rough,  should  any  one  arise 
with  force  of  character  requisite  to  seize 
and  sway  them  for  an  ulterior  end.  In 
fact,  the  Rob  Roy  rule  of  action,  — 

That  they  should  take  who  have  the  power 
And  they  should  keep  who  c;tn,  — 

is  the  direct  outcome  of  the  one  doc- 
trine ;  while  a  regard  for  the  rights  of  the 
individual  —  and  especially  of  the  weak 
and  the  defenseless  —  is  upbound  with 
the  other.  Tyranny  may  not  be  always 
practiced  when  the  former  philosophy  is 
dominant,  but  it  is  always  possible.  It 
may  be  the  despotism  of  one  (as  in  an 
oligarchy),  or  it  may  be  the  hydra-headed 
despotism  of  the  many  (as  in  some  re- 
publics) ;  but  in  either  case,  and  in  any 
case,  the  natural  outcome  of  the  philoso- 
phy, if  it  stands  alone,  is  a  style  of  action 
that  disposes  of  the  individual  too  easily. 
So  much  is  this  the  case  that  any  well- 
instructed    person    could    infer,    from    the 


68  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

character  of  the  prevailing  philosophy,  what 
social  and  political  results  would  probably 
emerge  in  the  nation  or  the  period. 

So  much  for  the  contrast  of  the  two 
tendencies,  and  their  outcome  in  Litera- 
ture, Art,  and  Life.  It  is  to  be  noted,  how- 
ever, that  as  tendencies  of  human  nature, 
they  are  permanent  and  ineradicable.  One 
of  the  two  may  work  itself  out,  in  the 
course  of  a  generation,  and  then  cease  to 
be  as  prominent  or  influential  as  it  was  ; 
but  it  only  retires  to  assume  new  features, 
and  to  achieve  new  triumphs  when  it  reap- 
pears. The  doctrine  of  the  transmutation 
of  force,  and  the  permanence  of  energy 
may  here  be  applied  without  any  abate- 
ment or  scruple. 

It  is  also  to  be  observed  that  each  of 
the  two  tendencies  is  essential  to  the 
other.  Though  often  opposed,  often  in 
violent  hostility,  they  are  i)iscparablc,  and 
necessary  each  to  each.  It  follows  that 
neither  of  them  can  ever  be  all  dominant 
in  the  world,  so  as  to  exclude  or  extin- 
guish the  other,  as  their  partisans  desire. 
This  is  just  as  obvious  as  is  the  distinction 
between  them.  The  absolute  supremacy 
of  either  is  a   Utopian  dream.      Humanity 


IDEALISM  AND   EXPERIENCE.         69 

has  never  left  itself,  so  to  speak,  without  a 
witness  of  the  presence  of  both  ;  and  al- 
though the  speech  of  one  of  them  has  been 
sometimes  like  "  a  voice  crying  in  the  wil- 
derness "  of  misunderstanding  or  reproach, 
in  the  next  generation  it  has  received  the 
hosannas  of  the  multitude. 

A  sensational  theory  of  the  origin  of 
knowledge,  a  utilitarian  doctrine  of  morals, 
a  conventional  standard  of  the  beautiful, 
a  theory  of  society  which  disposes  of  the 
individual  as  a  mere  unit  in  the  mass,  all 
these  have  their  use  to  the  idealist  in  re- 
minding him  of  his  connection  with  mother 
earth,  in  preventing  him  from  becoming  a 
mere  visionary,  and  pursuing  quixotic  en- 
terprises and  impracticable  schemes.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  to  the  disciple  of  expe- 
rience, who  is  continually  reminding  him- 
self and  others  of  his  relation  to  the  things 
of  sense,  the  opposite  philosophy  is  indis- 
pensable ;  that  is  to  say,  if  he  is  to  escape, 
not  only  from  the  partisanship  of  a  sect, 
but  from  the  thraldom  of  a  theory.  It 
not  only  opens  up  to  him  novel  points  of 
view,  in  endless  series,  and  indefinite  sug- 
gestivcness  ;  but  it  supplies  him  with  fresh 
inspiration  and  stimulus,  and  with  a  moral 


70  ESSAYS  J.V  PHILOSOPHY. 

tonic  of  the  greatest  value.  It  counteracts 
the  tendency  to  succumb  before  the  appar- 
ent drift  of  circumstances,  and  to  fall  into 
that  ;///  admirari  mood,  which  is  so  fatal 
to  character  in  an  age  of  cynicism. 

It  is  true  that  we  are  all  born  either 
Platonists  or  Aristotelians,  that  is  to  say, 
either  idealists  or  empiricists ;  and  the 
bias  toward  one  or  the  other  works  on  in 
the  blood  of  the  race,  and  is  ineradicable 
by  culture,  or  by  any  other  influence.  It 
would  be  the  reverse  of  an  advantage  if 
the  elimination  of  either  were  possible.  If 
it  would  be  the  dullest  and  most  disagree- 
able world  to  live  in  if  we  all  agreed  with 
each  other  on  every  conceivable  point,  it 
would  be  the  most  monotonous  world  im- 
aginable if  our  sympathies  ran  always  on 
parallel  lines,  and  the  most  unprogressive 
world  if  our  tendencies  all  met  at  a  com- 
mon focus.  The  great  desideratum  is  the 
frank  admission  by  every  one  of  the  value 
of  other  lines  of  thought  and  sympathy 
and  action,  while  he  pursues  his  own  ;  the 
recognition,  not  only  of  their  importance 
to  those  who  follow  them,  but  of  their  use 
to  the  world  at  large ;  so  that  —  whether 
we  were  born    Platonists  or  Aristotelians, 


IDEALISM  AND  EXPERIENCE.         J  I 

whether  we  arc  now  idealists  or  expcrien- 
tialists  —  we  may  attain  to  the  catholicity 
and  the  tolerance  that  "  shun  the  falsehood 
of  extremes." 


THE     CLASSIFICATION     OF    THE 
SCIENCES. 

It  is  more  important  to  ascertain  the 
true  Principles  of  Classification  than  ac- 
tually to  classify  the  Sciences,  for  two  rea- 
sons :  first,  because  the  schemes  which 
exist  are  so  numerous,  almost  every  phi- 
losopher of  note  having  tried  to  solve  the 
problem  ;  secondly,  because  each  attempt, 
being  a  product  of  the  state  of  knowledge 
existing  at  the  time,  must  share  in  the 
imperfection,  as  well  as  reflect  the  light  of 
the  period. 

It  has  been  said  that  it  is  of  slight  con- 
sequence how  we  arrange  our  knowledge, 
provided  we  do  actually  know  what  we 
think  we  know  ;  and  further,  that  we 
should  rest  contented  with  the  isolated 
fragments  we  can  gather  together,  if  we 
are  careful  to  sift  and  to  verify  them.  It 
is  obvious,  however,  that  we  cannot  know 
any  one  thing  accurately  until  we  know  it 
in  its  relation  to  others  ;  and  also  unless 


CLASSIFICATION  OF   THF   SCIKXCKS.      73 

our  knowledge  converges  to  a  focus,  and 
becomes  symmetrical.  The  relations  and 
co-relations  of  the  several  sciences  compel 
us  to  bring  them  together,  while  we  group 
or  arrange  them  in  some  sort  of  order  ; 
and  there  is  no  science  which  does  not 
either  overlap,  or  intersect,  or  borrow  from 
another.  Each  has  its  frontier,  or  intel- 
lectual margin,  which  is  the  property  of 
several  ;  and  territorial  disputes  as  to  this 
common  ground  are  frequent.  While  the 
provinces  of  many  are  not  as  yet  accu- 
rately defined,  the  circle  of  the  whole  is 
continually  widening.  They  have  thus  the 
very  subtlest  inter-relations. 

The  problem  before  us  is  how  to  arrange 
the  sections  of  knowledge  so  that  they  fall 
into  departmental  groups,  each  of  which 
is  affiliated  to  its  neighbor  by  a  natural, 
and  not  by  an  artificial  tie  —  in  other 
words,  by  some  organic  principle.  In  ad- 
dition to  this,  the  whole  scries  should  be 
so  arranged  that  if  we  were  to  start  from 
any  one  of  its  remotest  subsections,  we 
should  be  able  to  work  our  way  back  with 
ease  from  class  to  class,  under  the  guid- 
ance of  a  principle  which  at  once  com- 
prehends the  whole  and  unites  the  parts. 


74  ESSAVS  IX  PHILOSOPHY. 

It  might  be  thought  that,  in  order  to 
succeed  in  this,  one  must  be  acquainted 
with  the  details  of  all  the  sciences.  This, 
of  course,  is  absolutely  impossible  ;  but 
the  root  principle  of  each  science  may  be 
understood  by  those  who  know  very  little 
beyond  it.  The  generic  idea  involved  in 
a  particular  body  of  knowledge  may  be 
clearly  grasped,  while  only  a  few  of  the 
details  which  illustrate  it  are  known  ;  and 
it  docs  not  follow  that  a  minute  and  care- 
ful study  of  detail  would  make  the  funda- 
mental notion  of  any  science  clearer  to 
the  mind.  In  some  respects  the  specialist 
who  has  mastered  a  whole  realm  of  know- 
ledge—  perhaps  created  it  —  is  less  fitted 
than  other  men  to  determine  its  place  in 
the  hierarchy  of  the  sciences.  In  propor- 
tion to  the  originality  and  value  of  his  dis- 
coveries is  the  likelihood  that  he  will  ex- 
aggerate their  importance.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  it  is  not  by  our  most  distinguished 
specialists  that  the  best  classifications  of 
knowledge  have  been  made.  Looking 
upon  their  own  province  as  paramount, 
they  have  sometimes  adopted  an  arbitrary 
arrangement  of  the  rest,  as  if  they  were 
satellites  revolving  around  a  central  sun. 


ci.Assn-icATioy  of  ijie  sciexces.    75 

It  is  rather  by  those  who  have  the  catho- 
licity which  even  a  sHght  acquaintance 
with  many  sciences  gives  that  the  best 
classifications  have  been  made. 

Moreover,  not  only  is  a  specialist  likely 
to  begin  the  work  of  classification  with  a 
bias,  but  he  cannot  define  his  own  province 
until  he  transcends  it.  No  science  can  be 
allowed  to  settle  its  own  boundaries,  as  no 
nation  could  be  safely  trusted  to  determine 
its  own  frontier.  The  provinces  on  the 
map  of  human  knowledge  must  be  ar- 
ranged by  mutual  adjustment  and  debate, 
at  times  by  conflict  and  the  arbitrament  of 
war.  The  intellectual  world,  for  example, 
would  not  allow  a  logician  to  fix  the  prov- 
ince of  Logic,  if  he  was  no  more  than  a 
logician  ;  or  a  Biologist  to  say  how  much 
his  province  should  include,  if  he  knew 
nothing  beyond  it. 

The  sciences  themselves  are  constantly 
changing.  Some  are  enlarging,  others 
contracting  and  disappearing.  In  their 
mutual  relations  they  are  never  stationary 
for  an  instant  of  time,  because  every  dis- 
covery leads  on  to  another,  if  it  does  not 
involve  it  ;  and,  if  the  existing  bodies  of 
knowledge    are    always    changing,  a    rear- 


'jd  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

rangement  of  the  whole,  sooner  or  later, 
becomes  inevitable.  Some  sciences,  once 
honored,  are  now  like  wrought-out  mines 
—  an  exhausted  intellectual  field.  A  dis- 
trict, supposed  for  centuries  to  be  an  inde- 
pendent territory,  is  afterwards  regarded 
as  a  subordinate  province  —  belonging  nat- 
urally, and  of  right,  to  another  science. 

It  is  obvious  that  no  classification  can 
be  final,  simply  because  we  cannot  antici- 
pate the  future  ;  but  the  greater  provinces 
on  the  map  of  knowledge  have  been  little 
altered  since  that  map  was  first  con- 
structed by  the  genius  of  Aristotle.  They 
have  been  like  the  four  great  Continents, 
which  are  marked  off  from  one  another  by 
characteristic  physical  features,  and  their 
populations  distinguished  by  broad  racial 
differences.  These  do  not  alter.  The 
smaller  districts,  on  the  other  hand  —  in 
which  the  differences  are  merely  local  or 
tribal  — are  always  changing. 

There  are,  however,  no  provinces  in 
Nature  which  exactly  correspond  with  the 
diagrams  we  construct.  These  diagrams 
are  merely  our  reading  of  the  text  which 
Nature  presents  to  the  human  faculties 
for  interpretation,  —  a  subjective  render- 


CLASSIFICATION  OF    THE   SCI  FATES.      JJ 

in<^  of  objective  fact.  Just  as  with  our  i)sy- 
choloj^ical  schemes,  there  are  no  divisions 
in  human  nature  itself.  What  we  call 
"perception,"  "memory,"  "imagination," 
"reason,"  etc.,  are  not  compartments  of 
mind,  but  the  varying  activities  of  a  single 
principle,  the  unity  of  which  is  implied  in 
the  very  variety  of  its  i^owers.  Similarly, 
our  arrangements  of  the  sciences  are  all 
artificial,  in  the  sense  that  they  are  the 
mterpretation  we  put  upon  that  which 
exists,  either  within  us  or  beyond  us.  It 
must  further  be  remembered  that,  as  every 
object  in  Nature  affords  material  for  sev- 
eral of  the  sciences,  and  can  be  dealt  with 
so  as  to  yield  the  conclusions  of  several, 
there  must  of  necessity  be  not  only  an 
overlapping  of  the  provinces  of  knowledge, 
but  also  a  blendmg  of  its  problems  in  ex- 
perience. 

That  many  artificial  and  arbitrary 
schemes  of  classification  have  been  offered 
IS  not  to  be  wondered  at.  A  priori  theo- 
rists have  tried  to  arrange  a  programme 
of  all  possible  knowledge  —  drawing  out  a 
chart  which  would  remodel  Nature.  They 
have  presumed  to  tell  us  how  the  sciences 
ought  to  develop  themselves,  or  how  they 


y8  ESSAVS  IN  PHILOSOFHY. 

should  have  arisen  historically.  The  sci- 
ences have  not  arisen,  however,  in  the  or- 
der of  logical  sequence,  or  of  their  theo- 
retic distinction  from  one  another.  They 
have  sprung  up  in  the  most  heterogeneous 
manner,  and  have  been  developed  in  the 
most  casual  fashion,  as  province  after  prov- 
ince has  been  explored.  A  chart  of  the 
sciences,  constructed  according  to  the 
time  of  their  historical  appearance,  v^^ould 
be  interesting  and  extremely  useful ;  more 
especially  if  at  the  same  time  it  traced  out 
the  often  complex  causes  that  have  given 
rise  to  them.  Were  such  a  chart  drawn 
out,  however,  it  would  be  found  to  be  to- 
tally unlike  the  philosophical  classification 
of  which  we  are  in  search.  The  order  of 
time  and  the  order  of  nature  are  very 
different. 

An  opposite  opinion  was  advanced  by 
Comte.  He  afifirmed  that  the  organic  or 
structural  arrangement  of  knowledge  fol- 
lowed the  line  of  its  historical  evolution. 
If  this  were  the  case,  our  chief  if  not  our 
sole  guide  to  the  classification  of  tlie  sci- 
ences would  be  the  history  of  the  human 
mind,  and  of  its  efforts  to  understand  the 
universe.     The  theor\-  or  Comte  is  untrue 


CLASSll'ICATION  OF   THE  SCIRNCKS.     jg 

to  fact.  Looking  to  the  history  of  the  rise 
of  the  sciences,  we  find  that  the  move- 
ments have  not  been  always  linear,  so  to 
speak  ;  the  most  progressive  ones  have 
been  sometimes  circular.  Sciences  last  in 
the  order  of  nature  have  been  first  in  the 
order  of  time ;  and,  what  is  equally  note- 
worthy, many  causes  —  intellectual,  social, 
and  political  combined  —  have  determined 
their  origin.  Some  have  sprung  out  of  the 
dark,  as  it  were,  into  light,  at  particular 
times,  and  in  unexpected  places.  Contra- 
riwise, when  one  would  expect  a  discov- 
ery to  have  been  made,  —  because  it  fol- 
lowed logically  from  a  truth  already  known, 
—  it  was  not  made.  The  door  remained 
shut  in  that  direction,  and  a  considerable 
time  elapsed  before  it  was  opened. 

In  the  further  discussion  of  this  ques- 
tion much  will  depend  upon  the  definitions 
with  which  we  start ;  and  almost  every- 
thing turns  on  the  meaning  we  attach  to 
Science  itself.  As  the  term  is  sometimes 
used  with  the  utmost  vagueness,  —  and  the 
result  is  mere  confusion,  —  we  must  distin- 
guish Science,  on  the  one  hand,  from  the 
inferior  knowledge  which  it  supersedes ; 
and,  on   the  other  hand,  from   the  higher 


80  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

knowledge  which  transcends  it.  We  must 
separate  the  Sciences,  both  from  miscel- 
laneous information  and  from  Philosophy, 
as  well  as  from  Art.  Some  people  talk  of 
the  "  philosophical  sciences  "  —  a  phrase 
that  is  quite  as  misleading  as  its  opposite, 
the  "  scientific  philosophies."  Others  speak 
of  the  "  practical  sciences  "  —  a  phrase 
just  as  satisfactory  as  it  would  be  to  talk 
of  "scientific  practice."  It  is  true  that 
these  phrases  are  not  misleading  if  they 
are  taken  figuratively,  and  if  we  keep  in 
mind  that  we  are  making  use  of  symbols. 
At  the  same  time  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
to  remember  that  knowledge  is  wider  than 
science,  and  includes  much  more  than  sci- 
ence within  it.  Scientific  knowledge  is 
a  knowledge  of  phenomena,  or  groups  of 
phenomena,  belonging  to  provinces  marked 
off  from  one  another  by  distinct  intellec- 
tual boundaries,  and  all  reduced  to  law ; 
and  our  knowledge  becomes  scientific  as 
soon  as  we  find  out  the  law  of  the  occur- 
rence of  phenomena,  so  as  to  explain  their 
recurrence. 

What  follows  from  this  is  significant. 
It  is  outside  the  province  of  science  to  in- 
vesticrate  the  nature   of  substance.     That 


CLASSIFICATION  OF   THE  SCIENCES.     8  I 

is  the  province  of  Philosophy  ;  and  when 
we  raise  the  question  of  the  ultimate  es- 
sence of  all  things,  it  is  a  problem  of  phil- 
osophical theology.  Theology  is  not  a 
science.  If  theology  were  a  science,  God 
would  be  a  phenomenon.  There  is  a  sci- 
ence of  Religion,  because  the  phenomena 
of  the  human  mind,  in  its  effort  to  appre- 
hend that  which  lies  beyond  Nature,  can 
be  classified,  and  so  far  explained  ;  but 
there  can  be  no  science  of  the  Infinite. 
It  is  true  that  we  might  scientifically  ex- 
plain the  results  of  any  manifestation  of 
the  Infinite,  in  Nature  or  in  History  ;  and 
therefore,  to  that  extent,  we  might  have  a 
science  of  theology  ;  but  we  cannot  place 
it  within  the  circle  of  those  sciences  which 
have  for  their  object-matter  the  phenomena 
of  the  universe. 

The  distinction  between  Philosophy  and 
Science  is  ultimate  and  radical.  The  aim 
of  Science  is  the  increase  of  knowledge, 
by  the  discovery  of  laws,  within  v;hich  all 
phenomena  may  be  embraced,  and  by 
means  of  which  they  may  be  explained. 
The  aim  of  Philosophy,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  to  cxplai)i  tJie  sciences,  by  at  once  includ- 
ing and  transcending  them.     It  does  not, 


82  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

on  the  one  hand,  merely  prepare  the  way 
for  science  ;  nor,  on  the  other,  is  its  func- 
tion a  simply  administrative  one  ;  viz.,  to 
arrange  the  provinces  of  knowledge.  Its 
office  is  to  take  up  ihe  problem  after  it 
has  been  laid  down  by  science,  and  to 
carry  it  further.  Its  sphere  is  that  of  Sub- 
stance and  Essence.  It  is  a  search  for 
the  Ding-an-sic/i,  the  causa  causans,  within 
the  realm  of  the  Infinite  and  the  Absolute, 
the  discovery  and  interpretation  of  which 
give  it  a  title  to  rank  —  if  we  may  speak 
in  a  figure  —  as  the  scicntia  scientiamni. 
In  so  far  as  any  science  deals  with  this 
question  of  substance,  it  is  occupying  it- 
self with  the  problem  of  philosophy  under 
an  altered  name.  As  compared  with  all 
scientific  questions,  that  problem  varies 
not.  It  has  been  the  quest  of  the  ages  to 
apprehend  the  Reality  that  underlies  ap- 
pearance, to  unfold  its  characteristics,  and 
to  explain  its  relation  to  the  phenomenal 
world,  in  which  it  is  shadowed  forth  by 
type  and  symbol. 

While  this  remains,  through  all  the 
changes  of  the  schools,  the  perennial  ques- 
tion of  Philosophy,  it  is  approached  from 
so  many  sides,  and  in  such  different  ways, 


CLASSIFICATION  OF   THE   SCIENCES.      83 

that  a  variable  clement  is  introduced  along- 
side of  the  permanent  one.  This  may  ex- 
plain why  no  philosophical  theory  lasts, 
why  all  are  superannuated  soon  after  they 
take  shape  in  propositions  or  formulas, 
though  each  reappears  again  in  slightly 
altered  form. 

The  attemj:)ts  made  to  classify  the  sci- 
ences may  be  counted,  not  by  the  score, 
but  by  the  hundred  and  the  thousand.  Al- 
most every  philosopher  has  tried  to  solve 
the  problem. 

In  ancient  times  the  classifications  of 
Plato  and  of  Aristotle  were  the  most  mem- 
orable. Aristotle  —  whose  philosophy  was 
of  the  most  encyclopaedic  character  —  sur- 
veyed the  entire  domain  of  human  know- 
ledge, and  himself  created  several  sciences 
by  his  extraordinary  architectonic  faculty. 
He  wrote  —  or  dictated  —  books  on  Logic, 
on  Metaphysics,  on  Morals,  on  Politics,  on 
Rhetoric,  on  Natural  Mistory,  on  Zoology 
and  Comparative  Anatomy,  on  Physics  and 
Astronomy,  on  the  art  of  Poetry,  and  on 
Psychology.  All  this  was  with  him  a  clas- 
sification of  Philosophy  rather  than  of  Sci- 
ence. He  divided  PhilosojDhy  into  the 
theoretical,  the   productive,  and  the  prac- 


84  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

tical  domain  :  the  theoretical  embracing 
physics,  mathematics,  and  metaphysics ; 
the  productive  inckiding  the  various  arts  ; 
while  the  practical  included  ethics  and  pol- 
itics. Aristotle's  classification,  however, 
has  many  defects.  Logic,  for  example,  is 
outside  of  it  —  although  he  was  the  first 
to  formulate  the  laws  of  deductive  reason- 
ing in  a  systematic  manner  ;  and  the  dis- 
tinction between  productive  and  practical 
science  is  a  very  misleading  one.  Why 
should  politics  be  regarded  as  a  practical, 
and  not  as  a  productive  science.'*  If  we 
take  into  account  the  end  it  seeks  to  ac- 
complish, it  is  more  productive  than  the 
sciences  included  by  Aristotle  under  the 
latter  head.  It  is  a  mistake,  however,  to 
classify  knowledge  with  any  reference  to 
its  aims.  Its  inherent  nature  must  be  the 
basis  of  any  successful  classification  ;  and 
it  must  be  confessed  that,  while  Aristotle 
arranges  the  sciences  for  us  after  a  fashion, 
—  and  in  a  very  remarkable  way,  —  he 
neither  shows  us  their  evolution  from  a 
central  principle,  nor  builds  them  up  into 
an  organic  whole.  With  all  his  greatness, 
he  fails  both  as  a  scientific  architect,  and 
as  an  interpreter  f)f  the  order  of  nature. 


CI.ASail'ICATION  OF    THE   SCIENCES.      85 

The  first  really  important  classification 
in  modern  times  was  that  of  I'^ancis 
Bacon  ;  and  the  most  famous  that  have 
followed  are  those  of  Ilobbes,  Comenius, 
Locke,  Leibnitz,  Vico,  Kant,  I'ichte,  Schel- 
ling,  Hegel,  Coleridge,  Comte,  Ampere, 
Rosmini,  Whewell,  Hamilton,  Herbert 
Spencer,  and  Mr.  Bain.  Those  of  liacon, 
Hegel,  Comte,  and  Spencer  may  be  briefly 
glanced  at. 

Bacon's  intellect  was,  like  Aristotle's, 
encyclopaedic  ;  and  he  tried  to  map  out  the 
sciences,  after  first  laying  down  a  new  or- 
ganon  or  method  of  inquiry.  He  divided 
all  knowledge  into  a  knowledge  either  of 
History,  or  Poetry,  or  Philosophy;  corre- 
sponding, he  thought,  to  the  faculties  of 
Memory,  Imagination,  and  Reason.  "  The 
sense,"  he  said,  "which  is  the  door  of  the 
intellect,  is  affected  by  individual  objects 
only.  The  images  of  these  individuals  — 
that  is,  the  impressions  received  by  the 
sense  —  are  fi.xcd  in  the  memory ;  and 
pass  into  it,  in  the  first  instance,  entire  as 
it  were,  just  as  they  occur.  These  the 
human  mind  proceeds  to  review,  and  rumi- 
nate on  ;  and  therefore,  either  simply  re- 
hearses them,  or  makes  fanciful  imitations 


86  ESSAYS  LV  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  them,  or  analyzes  and  classifies  them. 
Therefore  from  these  three  fountains  — 
memory,  imagination,  and  reason  —  flow 
these  three  emanations,  history,  poesy, 
and  philosophy ;  and  there  can  be  no 
others."  First,  memory  records  and  stores 
up  facts.  This  originates  history ;  and 
history  is  either  natural,  or  civil,  each  of 
which  has  three  subsections.  Secondly, 
imagination,  working  on  the  things  of 
sense,  idealizes  them,  and  originates  poetry, 
which  —  according  to  Bacon  —  is  either 
narrative,  dramatic,  or  parabolical.  P^inally, 
the  reason  working  analytically  originates 
philosophy,  "which  has  three  objects,  viz., 
God,  Nature,  and  Man."  "  Nature  strikes 
the  human  intellect  with  a  direct  ray, 
God  with  a  refracted  ray,  and  Man  with 
a  reflected  ray ; "  and  so  we  have  "  the 
doctrine  of  the  Deity,  the  doctrine  of  Na- 
ture, and  the  doctrine  of  ^lan."  The 
second  and  the  third  of  these  Bacon  sub- 
divided. His  doctrine  of  nature  (natural 
philosophy)  he  arranged  as  speculative, 
and  as  practical  ;  and  the  speculative  he 
subdivided  into  physics  and  metaphysics,  to 
which  he  added  mathematics.  The  doc- 
trine of   man    he    subdivided    into    human 


CLASSIFICATION  OF   THE  SC/EA'CFS.      8/ 

and  civil  philosophy  ;  and  under  both  he 
placed  several  minor  sciences. 

But  the  Baconian  classification  is  full  of 
flaws.  The  faculties  of  memory,  imagi- 
nation, and  reason  do  not  stand  apart  — • 
as  Bacon  fancied  they  do  —  and,  working 
apart,  give  rise  to  the  several  sciences. 
He  held  that  history  arose  out  of  the 
exercise  of  the  faculty  of  memory  by  it- 
self ;  but  surely  the  reason,  and  even  the 
imagination,  are  quite  as  much  needed 
as  the  memory  is  in  the  construction  of 
history  ?  Then  even  supposing  that  it 
was  correct  to  place  philosophy  amongst 
the  sciences  (which  it  is  not),  if  God,  Na- 
ture, and  Alan  form  a  rigid  tripartite  divi- 
sion, questions  will  be  rediscussed  in  the 
third  section  which  really  belong  to  the 
second.  Why  should  human  physiology, 
e.  g.,  be  detached  from  the  general  science 
of  physiology  .-^  and  again,  why  should  met- 
aphysics be  a  subsection  of  the  doctrine 
of  nature  }  and  mathematics  be  thrown 
in  as  a  sort  of  corollary  to  physics  .''  There 
is  much  arbitrariness  in  Bacon's  arrange- 
ment of  the  provinces  of  knowledge. 

Passing  over  many  noteworthy  schemes, 
we  reach  that  of  Ilegel.     In  his  Eiicyclopce- 


88  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

dia  of  tJic  PhilosopJiical  Sciences  we  have  a 
magnificent  piece  of  intellectual  work  — 
solid  constructive  masonry.  Hegel  formed 
a  really  grand  conception  of  a  universal  sci- 
ence, that  should  include  within  it  the  de- 
tails of  all  the  rest  ;  and  he  thought  that, 
in  the  experience  of  the  individual  and  of 
the  race  combined,  we  reach  a  knowledge 
of  the  absolute  essence  both  of  nature  and 
of  man.  In. all  nature  he  saw  a  mirror  of 
intelligence.  Mind  was  objectified,  or  so- 
lidified, in  the  external  world  :  Reason  had 
become  incarnate  in  matter.  The  root 
of  everything  was  the  Idea  itself  ;  but 
thought  had  thrust  itself  forth,  objectify- 
ing itself  in  nature  ;  afterwards,  it  returned 
back  to  itself,  and  reached  a  second 
(higher)  knowledge  in  self  -  consciousness. 
The  Hegelian  division  of  knowledge  thus 
became  tripartite  ;  the  first  section  includ- 
ing logic,  the  second  the  philosophy  of  na- 
ture, and  the  third  the  philosophy  of  spirit. 
Under  the  second  head  were  included  the 
sciences  of  mathematics,  physics,  and  or- 
ganic life.  The  third  was  also  subdivided 
into  three;  the  first  (or  the  doctrine  of 
the  subjective  spirit)  embracing  anthropol- 
ogy, phenomenology,  and  psychology  ;  the 


CLASSIFICATION  OI-    HIE   SCIENCKS.      89 

second  (or  the  doctrine  of  the  objective 
spirit)  including  legal  right,  individual  mor- 
ality, and  state  morality  ;  the  third  (or  the 
doctrine  of  the  absolute  spirit)  dealing  with 
art,  religion,  and  the  absolute  philosophy. 

The  merit  of  Hegel's  classification  is 
that  he  strove  to  incorporate  the  scattered 
sciences  into  an  organic  whole,  and  to  in- 
terpret them  all,  as  parts  of  a  universal 
science  to  which  each  was  contributory. 
Its  skill  was  conspicuous,  and  its  sugges- 
tiveness  great  ;  but  it  erred  ab  initio,  and 
is  as  full  of  flaws  as  Bacon's  classification 
was.  Hegel's  radical  blunder  was  this. 
He  started  with  an  assumption  of  what  the 
sciences  must  be,  and  built  them  up  out 
of  a  priori  notions  detached  from  experi- 
ence. This  was  as  bad  as  any  of  the 
assumptions  of  the  mediaeval  philosophy 
which  it  discarded.  From  an  a  priori  pos- 
tulate he  endeavored  to  construct  a  hie- 
rarchy of  the  sciences  one  by  one.  He 
evolved  a  solar  system  out  of  the  abstract  ; 
and,  in  doing  so,  broke  away  from  the  facts 
of  science,  established  by  Newton.  The 
planets  he  finds  vuist  be  the  most  perfect 
of  celestial  bodies ;  and  not  being  able  to 
account  for  the  fixed  stars,  he  sets  them 


90  ESSAi'S   IX  PHILOSOPHY. 

down  as  mere  formal  existences,  and  says 
that  the  astral,  as  compared  with  the  solar, 
system  is  as  little  admirable  as  a  disease 
of  the  skin,  or  a  swarm  of  flies  ! 

A  very  significant  result  of  the  Hegelian 
system  was  that  the  subsequent  natural 
philosophy  of  Germany,  imbibing  its  spirit, 
entered  for  a  time  on  a  path  of  antagonism 
to  the  science  of  the  rest  of  Europe,  and 
intensified  the  schism  between  science  and 
philosophy  for  a  generation.  If  we  start 
with  the  idea  that  the  visible  universe  is 
the  outcome  of  an  act  of  thought  on  the 
part  of  the  Infinite  mirrored  to  us  in  the 
realm  of  the  finite,  it  seems  natural  to 
conclude  that  the  human  mind  may  think 
over  again  the  thoughts  of  the  divine,  and 
therefore  that  the  true  way  to  construct  the 
sciences  is  to  evolve  them  altogether  from 
within.  The  whole  course  of  history  has 
proved  that  by  no  royal  road  of  demonstra- 
tion can  physical  science  be  evolved  from  an 
(7/;7^;7  postulate,  that  it  is  only  b}"  the  slow 
and  patient  induction  of  facts  —  by  hum- 
ble experiment,  and  by  tests  a  posteriori  — 
that  it  can  secure  its  triumphs.  The  con- 
tempt of  certain  philosophers  for  the  teach- 
ings of  experience,  and  their  efforts  to  de- 


classificatiOaY  of  the  sciexcks.    91 

duce  scientific  truth  from  assumed  data, 
may  account  for  the  arrogance  with  whicii 
some  of  the  scientific  guides  of  Europe 
have  decried  pliilosophy  ;  e.  g.,  the  bitter 
way  in  which  Hegel  attacivcd  Sir  Isaac 
Newton  led  to  the  obvious  retort  on  the 
])art  of  scientific  men  that  philosophers 
lived  in  cloudland. 

Leaving  llegel  I  come  to  Auguste 
Comte,  who  perhaps  did  more  for  the  posi- 
tive sciences  than  any  other  writer  of  this 
century.  To  Comte  science  was  every- 
thing. Philosophy  was  merely  the  co- 
ordination of  the  results  of  the  separate 
sciences,  or  a  systematization  of  the  mis- 
cellaneous mass  of  facts  and  laws  which 
science  yields.  Thus  to  him  the  supreme 
problem  of  philosophy  was  the  classifica- 
tion of  the  sciences.  He  held  that  our 
knowledge  extends  only  to  facts,  and  the 
relations  of  facts.  What  underlies  them, 
what  causes  them,  and  what  transcends 
them,  is  hidden  from  our  faculties.  There- 
fore, phenomena  and  the  laws  of  phe- 
nomena are  the  alpha  and  the  omega  of 
knowledge.  Another  central  doctrine  in 
his  teaching  was  that  the  human  mind 
has  progressed   historically  through   three 


92  ESSAY'S  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

Stages  :  the  first,  a  theological  or  mytho- 
logical stage,  in  which  occult  powers  were 
accepted  as  the  causes  of  natural  phenom- 
ena ;  the  second,  a  metaphysical  stage,  in 
which  abstract  essences  or  substances 
were  supposed  to  underly  phenomena,  and 
to  explain  them  ;  the  third,  a  scientific  or 
positive  stage,  in  which  only  the  phenom- 
ena themselves  and  their  laws  have  been 
recognized  as  within  the  sphere  of  the 
knowable.  Comte  held  that  this  sequence 
of  stages  is  invariably  seen  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  human  mind.  As  a  reading  of 
history  or  a  generalized  law  of  progress, 
however,  it  is  as  unverifiable  as  is  Hegel's 
a  prio7'i  doctrine. 

Comte  proceeded  to  classify  the  sci- 
ences, in  the  light  of  this  law  of  Evolution ; 
and  at  the  outset,  he  laid  down  a  distinc- 
tion of  great  value,  viz.,  the  distinction  be- 
tween the  abstract  and  the  concrete.  Ab- 
stract science  seeks  the  laws  which  govern, 
and  must  govern,  all  phenomena,  howsoever 
they  appear  ;  laws  which  are  true  of  those 
combinations  of  phenomena  which  actually 
exist,  but  which  would  have  been  equally 
true  of  any  other  combinations;  e.g.,  Chem- 
istry tells  us  of  the  laws  to  which  all  bodies 


CLASSIFICATION  OF    THF   SC/EXCFS.     93 

must  conform,  wliile  Mineralogy  unfolds 
the  conditions  under  which  they  actually  do 
appear.  Therefore,  the  former  is  an  ab- 
stract, and  the  latter  a  concrete  science. 
Again,  Biology  tells  us  of  the  universal 
laws  of  life,  to  which  all  living  creatures 
must  conform  ;  Botany  and  Zoology  un- 
fold the  particular  conditions  of  life,  to 
which  we  find  they  do  conform  in  the  con- 
crete world  of  experience.  We  have  thus 
a  broad  division  of  the  sciences  into  two 
main  classes  —  the  abstract,  which  relate 
to  general  or  universal  laws,  arid  the  con- 
crete, which  deal  with  particular  or  special 
things.  It  is  to  the  former  class  that  the 
name  Science  properly  belongs  ;  the  con- 
crete sciences  are  rather  classifications  of 
existing  phenomena.  They  spring  up  ear- 
lier than  the  abstract  sciences,  but  they 
are  much  later  in  reaching  their  final 
form  ;  because  the  laws  on  which  they 
depend,  and  to  which  the  phenomena  con- 
form, arc  less  easily  discovered. 

It  is  to  the  abstract  sciences  that  Comte 
almost  exclusively  confined  himself.  They 
are  the  fundamental  ones  ;  and  he  ar- 
ranged them  in  an  ascending  scale,  accord- 
ing   as    they    are    respectively   general    or 


94  liSSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

special,  and  according  as  they  depend  upon 
each  other.  Each  science  depends  on  the 
laws  of  the  science  which  precedes  it,  to 
which  it  adds  new  ones  of  its  own.  He 
next  finds  that  the  phenomena  which  form 
the  basis  of  the  sciences  are  divisible  into 
the  organic  and  the  inorganic.  The  organic 
are  more  complex  and  less  general  than 
the  inorganic.  The  former  are  dependent 
upon  the  latter,  and  include  the  latter  within 
them  ;  because  it  is  inorganic  material  that 
becomes  organized,  and  the  dependence  of 
the  sciences  on  one  another  increases,  as 
the  series  advances.  Inorganic  phenomena 
are  divided  into  celestial  and  terrestrial  — 
the  former  being  more  general  and  inde- 
pendent than  the  latter.  Thus  the  science 
of  astronomy  comes  first.  Any  and  every 
terrestrial  phenomenon  is  to  us  more  cora- 
])lex  than  the  most  intricate  of  celestial  phe- 
nomena. The  most  complex  astronomical 
problem  is  really  less  intricate  than  the 
simplest  terrestrial  one.  Terrestrial  phys- 
ics fall  into  sections  governed  by  the  same 
principle.  Chemical  phenomena  arc  more 
complex  than  mechanical  or  physical  ones, 
chemical  action  being  modified  by  weight, 
heat,   electricit}-,   etc.      Therefore   phvsics, 


CLASSIFICATION  OF   THE   SCIFA'CFS.     95 

which  follows  astronomy,  precedes  chem- 
istry, these  three  sciences  covering  the 
whole  realm  of  the  inorganic.  Turning 
to  organic  phenomena,  these  present  them- 
selves either  as  relating  to  the  individual, 
or  to  the  species  ;  yielding  as  result  the 
sciences  of  physiology  or  biology,  and  so- 
ciology. Thus  we  have  the  five  affiliated 
sciences  of  astronomy,  physics,  chemistry, 
biology,  and  sociology  ;  the  whole  series 
being  preceded  by  another,  which  is  the 
most  radical,  the  most  abstract,  and  inde- 
pendent of  them  all,  and  therefore  in  a 
sense  preeminent,  viz.,  mathematics. 

It  is  when  Comte  passes  on  to  consider 
man,  as  the  highest  and  the  most  charac- 
teristic of  living  beings,  that  he  fails,  both 
in  his  classification  and  in  his  results. 
Man  is  a  microcosm,  and  sums  U[)  in  his 
nature  the  characteristic  features  of  all 
creatures  underneath  him.  lie  is  the  high- 
est product  of  organization,  or  the  organ- 
ized life  of  the  world  ;  but  he  is  nothing 
more.  Comte  docs  not  admit  that  any- 
thing in  the  cosmos  is  higher  than  an  or- 
ganized structure.  IMind  is  merely  a  func- 
tion of  matter,  and  therefore  the  subjective 
examination   of  consciousness  is  delusive. 


96  ESS  A  VS  IN  rHILOSOrilY. 

It  leads  to  nothing.  As  mind  cannot  be 
studied  apart  from  matter,  there  is  no  sci- 
ence of  psychology,  as  distinct  from  physi- 
ology. Man  is  only  a  highly  organized  ani- 
mal, and  sociology  —  or  the  study  of  man  in 
the  aggregate  —  is  only  an  extended  branch 
of  physiology.  In  short,  the  physical  ab- 
sorb the  mental  sciences  within  them. 

Comte's  classification  has  been  sharply 
criticised  by  an  English  disciple  of  the 
same  school  of  philosophy,  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer.  Spencer's  arrangement  of  the 
sciences  has  acquired  much  celebrit\',  and 
his  influence  over  contemporary  English 
thought  has  been  great. 

Mr.  Spencer's  principle  of  classification 
is  that  each  class  must  include  within  it 
"those  objects  which  have  more  charac- 
teristics in  common  with  one  another  than 
any  of  them  have  in  common  with  any  ob- 
jects excluded  from  the  class  ;  and  that 
those  characteristics  possessed  in  common 
by  these  objects,  and  not  possessed  by 
other  objects,  must  be  more  radical  than 
any  of  the  characteristics  possessed  by 
them  in  common  with  other  objects."  The 
broadest  natural  division  among  the  sci- 
ences, he  thinks,  is   the  division,  first,  into 


CLASSIFICA  IION  OF   THE   SCIEA'Cl-.S      (yj 

those  which  deal  with  the  abstract  rela- 
tions under  which  phenomena  are  pre- 
sented to  us,  and,  secondly,  those  which 
deal  with  the  phenomena  themselves. 
Thus  the  sciences  which  deal  with  Space 
and  Time  are  separated,  by  the  profound- 
cst  of  all  distinctions,  from  the  sciences 
which  deal  with  what  is  disclosed  to  us  in 
space  and  time.  They  treat  of  the  forms 
in  and  under  which  phenomena  arc  known 
to  us  ;  and  the  two  sciences  of  logic  and 
mathematics  belong  to  this  category.  Con- 
trasted with  these  are  the  sciences  which 
treat  of  the  phenomena  themselves  ;  and 
these  fall  into  two  categories,  according  as 
we  deal  with  them  in  their  elements,  or  in 
their  totalities.  The  latter  are  the  con- 
crete sciences,  and  they  include  astronomy, 
geology,  biology,  psychology,  sociology  ; 
the  former  are  abstract-concrete,  and  they 
include  mechanics,  physics,  chemistry. 

In  this  there  is  a  partial  resemblance  to 
Comte's  classification,  but  Mr.  Spencer 
uses  the  words  abstract  and  concrete  dif- 
ferently from  Comte.  According  to  Comte, 
each  science  has  an  abstract  part,  and  a 
concrete  part.  According  to  Mr.  Spencer, 
some    sciences    are    whollv    abstract,    and 


98  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

Others  wholly  concrete  ;  while  others  are 
intermediate,  or  half  of  the  one  and  half  of 
the  other.  To  glance  briefly  at  the  three. 
The  sciences  belonging  to  the  first  class 
deal  with  relations,  and  not  with  realities  ; 
with  the  forms  of  things,  and  not  with  the 
things  themselves.  The  sciences  of  the 
second  class  deal  with  realities,  but  not  as 
they  are  actually  manifested  to  us,  only  as 
these  real  things  are  by  us  artificially  sepa- 
rated from  one  another.  The  sciences  of 
the  third  class  deal  with  realities  as  they 
actually  appear.  To  the  first  or  abstract 
class  belong  logic,  which  deals  with  quali- 
ties ;  and  mathematics,  which  deals  with 
quantities.  To  the  second,  or  abstract- 
concrete  class,  belong  :  first,  the  sciences 
which  investigate  the  laws  of  force,  as 
manifested  by  matter  in  masses,  such  as 
mechanics,  statics,  dynamics ;  and,  sec- 
ondly, the  sciences  which  investigate  the 
laws  of  force,  as  manifested  by  matter  in 
molecules,  such  as  chemistry,  the  sciences 
of  heat,  light,  electricity,  and  magnetism. 
In  all  these  we  carry  on  an  analytical  in- 
vestigation of  nature,  by  decomposing  or 
separating  its  phenomena.  The  third,  or 
concrete  sciences,  take  cognizance  of   the 


CLASSIFICATION  OF   THE   SCIENCES.      99 

groups  of  actual  phenomena,  and  aim  not 
at  an  analytical,  but  a  synthetical  treat- 
ment of  them.  They  include  astronomy, 
mineralogy,  meteorology,  geology,  biology, 
psychology,  and  sociology.  These  three 
groups  of  sciences  yield  us  respectively  the 
laws  of  the  forms,  the  factors,  and  the 
products  of  nature. 

Here  again,  however,  I  think  there  are 
some  radical  difficulties.  Mr.  Spencer's 
primary  distinction  between  objects  and 
relations  —  on  which  his  separation  of  the 
two  abstract  sciences  of  logic  and  mathe- 
matics from  the  concrete  ones  is  founded 
—  is  far  from  satisfactory  ;  and,  even  if  it 
were  a  true  distinction,  I  do  not  see  that 
any  adequate  classification  of  knowledge 
could  be  based  upon  it,  because  there  is 
no  science  within  the  circle  of  knowledge 
that  does  not  deal  both  with  objects  and 
relations.  There  can  be  no  relations  with- 
out objects,  and  all  objects  have  relations 
each  to  each.  This  is  but  one  of  several 
criticisms  which  might  be  passed  on  the 
Spencerian  catalogue,  although  it  is,  in 
many  respects,  a  distinct  advance  on  all 
previous  arrangements  of  the  sciences. 

The  following  classification  may  perhaps 


lOO  ASSAYS   IN  rniLOSOPHY. 

avoid  some  of  the  defects  in  the  schemes 
criticised,  without  falling  into  others  equally 
great.  I  say  perhaps  advisedly,  because 
the  problem  is  difficult,  and  the  risk  of 
failure  great. 

Two  things  must  at  the  outset  be  kept 
in  view.  First,  we  must  avoid  the  coinage 
of  new  words,  with  the  view  of  more  accu- 
rately defining  our  departments.  To  affix 
an  uncouth  name  to  a  newly  discovered 
section  of  knowledge  is  bad  enough  ;  but 
to  recast  the  old  terminology,  by  which 
the  sciences  have  been  known  time  out  of 
mind,  in  favor  of  some  new  phrase,  is 
pedantic  as  well  as  arbitrary.  Such  re- 
minting  of  terms  can  never  yield  the  cur- 
rent coin  of  the  future.  Second,  the  effort 
to  avoid  cross-division  may  be  carried  so 
far  as  to  result  in  a  one-sided  classification. 
A  harmonious  arrangement  of  the  prov- 
inces of  knowledge  is  of  course  the  end 
we  have  in  view  ;  at  the  same  time  it  may 
be  better  —  while  the  sciences  are  still 
developing  —  to  leave  a  few  unsymmet- 
rical  subsections  in  our  scheme,  than  to 
attain  symmetry  by  the  exclusion  of  a  sin- 
gle province,  which  cannot  be  easily  fitted 
into  its  place. 


CLASSIFICATIOX  OF   THE   SCIEXCES.     \Q\ 

Two  illustrations  may  now  be  given  of 
the  way  in  which  the  sciences  might  be 
grouped.  Starting  with  the  distinction 
between  Nature  and  Man,  they  might  be 
arranged,  first,  as  object -sciences,  and, 
secondly,  as  subject -sciences  ;  in  other 
words,  we  might  begin  with  those  which 
concern  the  outward  universe  surrounding 
us,  and  then  take  up  those  which  relate  to 
the  inward  nature  of  the  knower.  The 
former,  the  object-sciences,  might  then  be 
subdivided  into  the  organic  and  the  inor- 
ganic ;  each  of  which  would  be  susceptible 
of  numerous  subdivisions.  Again,  the 
whole  group  of  the  sciences  might  be  ar- 
ranged, first,  as  abstract  and  general,  and 
secondly,  as  concrete  and  special  ;  and 
therefore,  to  a  certain  extent  the  former 
class  would  be  simple,  and  the  latter  com- 
plex. In  these  two  samples  of  classifica- 
tion it  will  be  observed  that  the  former 
arises  out  of  a  distinction  between  the 
provinces  of  knowledge,  while  the  latter  is 
based  upon  a  difference  in  its  character- 
istics. 

I  prefer,  however,  to  make  the  funda- 
mental distinction  between  the  sciences, 
not  that  of  the  abstract  and  concrete,  or 


I02  ESSAY'S.  LV  PHILOSOl'HY. 

the  general  and  special,  nor  even  to  distin- 
guish them  as  the  sciences  of  nature  and 
of  man,  but  rather  to  divide  them  thus  : 
First,  the  sciences  including  and  dealing 
with  the  phenomena  of  mind ;  and,  sec- 
ondly, the  sciences  including  and  dealing 
with  the  phenomena  of  matter.  This  root 
distinction,  simple  as  it  is,  and  possibly 
just  because  it  is  so  obvious,  will  be  found 
to  yield  a  more  symmetrical  arrangement 
of  the  groups  than  any  other. 

To  begin  with  the  sciences  belonging 
to  the  former  class,  there  is,  first,  Logic, 
the  science  of  the  phenomena  and  laws  of 
thought,  of  reasoning,  inference,  and  evi- 
dence. Second,  Psychology,  the  science 
of  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind,  of 
the  senses  and  the  intellect  of  man.  Third, 
Ethics,  the  science  of  morality,  dealing 
with  the  phenomena  of  the  emotions  and 
the  will,  with  the  springs  of  conduct  and 
their  outcome.  Fourth,  Sociology,  the  sci- 
ence which  investigates  the  relation  of 
man  to  man  in  the  body  corporate,  the 
conditions  and  laws  of  human  welfare,  so 
as  to  insure  the  stability  of  the  social 
organism.  (Sociology,  it  will  be  seen, 
touches    on   political   economy,   on   ethics, 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  THK   SCIENCFS.    103 

and  on  law.)  Fifth,  History,  the  science 
which  traces  the  plienomena  and  laws  of 
social  evolution,  illustrated  on  the  field  of 
experience.  Si.xth,  Jurisprudence,  the  sci- 
ence which  deals  with  the  principles  of 
law  and  order,  of  social  contract,  and  of 
government  ;  in  other  words,  the  relation 
in  which  the  units  stand  to  the  whole  in 
each  nation,  and  in  which  nation  stands 
to  nation  in  the  larger  area  of  the  world. 
Seventh,  La)iguagi\  the  science  of  the  va- 
rious forms  of  speech,  and  of  their  relation 
one  to  another.  (The  sciences  of  Gram- 
mar and  of  Comparative  Philology  might 
perhaps  be  regarded  as  subsections  of  the 
general  science  of  Language  ;  the  philo- 
logical structure  of  any  particular  language 
being  a  distinct  province  of  inquiry  from 
that  of  comparative  philology.  Rhetoric 
belongs  to  the  arts,  and  has  no  place 
amongst  the  sciences.)  Eighth,  ^Esthetics, 
the  science  which  traverses  the  whole  de- 
partment of  the  beautiful,  so  far-  as  the 
phenomena  of  beauty  can  be  reduced  to 
law.  Ninth,  the  science  of  Kelii^ioji,  deal- 
ing with  the  phenomena  of  the  human 
mind  in  their  relation  to  that  which  tran- 
scends the  finite,  and  the  efforts  made  by 


104  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

man  to  construct  a  theory  of  the  ways  in 
which  the  Infinite  manifests  itself.  All 
these  sciences  are,  less  or  more,  sciences  of 
mind.  They  have  for  their  subject-matter 
the  phenomena  of  mind,  as  distinct  from 
the  phenomena  of  matter. 

Turning  now  to  the  second  class,  which 
includes  the  sciences  dealing  with  the  phe- 
nomena of  matter,  I  do  not  of  course  refer 
to  crass  material  substance,  but  to  the 
phases  which  the  material  world  assumes, 
the  aspects  under  which  it  may  be  re- 
garded, and  the  laws  which  can  be  deduced 
from  our  observation  of  these.  First,  at 
the  base  of  the  series,  I  place  the  science 
which  in  a  certain  sense  is  a  link  of  con- 
nection between  the  two  classes,  as  it 
deals  with  the  quantitative  relations  of 
things,  with  number  and  space.  It  is  the 
science  of  MatJicniatics,  with  its  numerous 
subsections.  Second,  Experimental  Phys- 
ics, dealing  with  the  laws  of  matter  and 
motion,  in  their  complexity  and  varitt}'  ; 
with  its  subsections.  Statics,  and  Dynam- 
ics, the  laws  of  the  phenomena  of  Light,  of 
Heat,  of  Electricity,  and  of  ^Magnetism. 
Third,  Chemistry,  the  science  which  inves- 
tigates the  ultimate  constituents  of  bodies, 


CLASSIFICATION  OF    I  HE   SCIKXCKS.     1 05 

and  by  analysis  resolves  complex  substances 
into  their  elements.  Fourth,  Astronomy,  the 
science  which  deals  with  the  constitution, 
the  laws,  and  the  j:)ropcrties  of  celestial 
bodies.  Fifth,  the  science  of  Eui^iiiecring. 
Enginecrini]^  is  half  a  science  and  half  an 
art  ;  and,  on  the  scientific  side,  it  may  be 
brought  under  Statics  and  Dynamics  ;  but, 
as  it  deals  with  the  strength  of  materials, 
and  the  laws  of  construction,  it  is  perhaps 
better  to  place  it  apart  by  itself.  Sixth, 
Biology,  the  science  of  the  phenomena  of 
life  and  of  living  things  ;  which  may  be 
subdivided,  according  as  life  is  seen  organ- 
ized in  the  two  kingdoms  of  nature,  the 
vegetable  and  the  animal  ;  the  result  being 
the  two  sciences  of  Botany  and  Zoology. 
I  need  hardly  point  out  that  zoology  has 
numerous  subsections,  such  as  Ornithology, 
Ichthyology,  Entomology,  etc.  Seventh, 
Geology,  the  science  of  the  laws  by  which 
the  present  surface  of  the  earth  has  as- 
sumed the  form  which  it  now  presents. 
Eighth,  Mineralogy,  the  science  which 
deals  with  the  substances  that  have  been 
shaped  by  the  forces  of  which  geology  tells 
us,  the  constituent  elements  of  those  rock- 
substances  which  now  diversify  the  earth. 


I06  ESSAYS  IX  PHILOSOPHY. 

(It  is  proper  to  note  that  Mineralogy  might 
be  considered  as  a  department  of  chem- 
istry.) Ninth,  Meteorology,  the  science 
which  treats  of  the  constitution  of  the 
atmosphere  and  the  laws  regulative  of 
weather  changes,  etc.  Tenth,  the  large 
group  of  the  Medical  Sciences,  which  deal 
with  the  human  organism  in  health  and  in 
disease,  with  the  way  of  promoting  the  one 
and  preventing  the  other.  Here,  of  course, 
science  and  art  must  join  hands  ;  we  can- 
not separate  the  healing  art  from  the  sci- 
ence of  medicine.  In  one  of  the  subsec- 
tions of  the  group  (that,  namely,  of  medical 
jurisprudence)  we  also  sec  how  the  medical 
and  the  legal  sciences  touch  each  other. 
The  last  science,  eleventh,  which  I  reserve 
for  this  section,  is  that  of  Political  Econ- 
omy. It  deals  with  the  phenomena  and 
the  laws  of  wealth.  It  traces  the  causes 
of  the  wealth  of  nations,  and  investigates 
the  best  way  of  distributing,  as  well  as  of 
producing,  wealth.  From  its  close  relation 
to  Sociology,  however,  this  science  might 
almost  lie  between  the  two  grouj)s,  as  well 
as  be  included  in  the  latter  of  them. 

I  have  not  attempted  to  show  how  one 
science  gives  rise  to  another,  or  depends 


CLASSIFICATJOX  OF  THE  SCIEA'CES.      lO/ 

upon  it ;  nor  how  the  sciences  bear  upon 
the  arts  ;  nor  how  the  theoretical  and 
practical  are  intertwisted  in  experience. 
These  questions  demand  separate  treat- 
ment in  detail. 

Some  of  the  advantaj^es,  however,  to  be 
derived  from  the  attempt  to  classify  our 
knowledge  —  even  if  the  effort  is  only 
partially  successful  —  may  be  referred  to 
in  conclusion,  (i.)  If  our  knowledge  is 
coordinated  so  that  we  see  how  the  entire 
structure  is  compacted  by  what  each  ele- 
ment supplies,  we  will  have  a  much  clearer 
idea  of  the  function  of  the  separate  sci- 
ences, as  well  as  of  the  scope  of  the  whole. 
(2.)  Classification  shows  us  the  unity  that 
underlies  the  diversity  of  knowledge,  the 
distinctions  of  the  separate  sciences  being 
maintained,  and  yet  transcended.  The 
recognition  of  the  inner  aiTinities  of  knowl- 
edge, of  its  occult  correspondences  and 
relations  —  of  the  priority  of  one  principle 
and  the  subordination  of  another  —  must 
add  to  the  importance  of  the  humblest. 
(3.)  We  see  how  one  science  helps  another, 
and  the  extent  of  the  debt  they  owe  to  each 
other.  The  most  important  discoveries 
ever  made  have  been  the  result  of  coopera- 


I08  £SSAVS  IX  PHILOSOPHY. 

tion  —  sometimes  the  unconscious  coopera- 
tion—  of  workers  in  two  or  more  sciences. 
The  debt  that  Geometry  owes  to  Algebra, 
that  Optics  owes  to  Chemistry  (in  the  dis- 
coveries of  spectrum  analysis,  for  example), 
reacting  again  on  Astronomy,  and  the  way 
in  which  Psychology  has  been  aided  by 
Physiology,  are  illustrations  of  this.  It  is 
also  worthy  of  note  that  the  specialist  does 
not  necessarily  advance  his  science  best  by 
mere  specialization.  It  is  rather  by  bring- 
ing one  science  to  bear  upon  another  that 
the  most  notable  results  have  been  achieved 
and  the  greatest  discoveries  made.  (4.)  An 
appreciation  of  what  has  been  done  by 
others  is  one  of  the  best  results  of  a  study 
of  the  map  of  human  knowledge.  Natu- 
rally, we  overestimate  our  own  department, 
and  possibly  the  best  work  ever  done  in 
the  world  would  not  be  done  without  such 
exaggeration.  It  is  well  for  us,  however,  to 
have  some  knowledge  of  the  achievements 
of  those  with  whose  labor  in  detail  we 
can  never  become  acquainted.  The  width 
of  mental  vision,  which  such  a  survey  gives, 
should  promote  a  sort  of  intellectual  free- 
masonry ;  and  that,  in  turn,  should  develop 
the  social  friendliness,  which  lessens  the 
misimderstandin<js  of  life. 


ETHICAL  PHILOSOPHY  AND  EV- 
OLUTION. 

Discipline  in  Philosophy  is  at  once  a 
great  inheritance  of  academic  life,  and  a 
permanent  necessity  of  the  human  intel- 
lect. We  are  to  pursue  research  within  a 
province,  which  has  drawn  towards  it  — 
—  with  a  singular  magnetic  spell  —  the 
devotion  of  successive  generations.  To 
solve  the  problems  of  Philosophy,  or  to 
discover  the  limit  of  all  possible  solutions, 
has  been  the  ambition  of  every  university 
student  from  mediaeval  times.  It  has  been 
said  that  in  Scotland  we  all  inherit  the 
speculative  craving,  and  that  metaphysics 
are  indigenous  to  our  soil.  This  is  but  a 
slight  exaggeration  of  the  fact  that  Philos- 
ophy has  for  centuries  formed  the  centre 
of  our  academic  discipline,  and  that  we 
have  clothed  the  venerable  word  with  a 
meaning  which  gives  it  indisputable  pre- 
eminence in  the  curriculum  of  a  liberal 
education. 


no  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

It  is  the  fashion,  however,  to  describe 
the  present  age  as  predominantly  scientific, 
to  affirm  that  the  intellectual  interest  of 
the  hour  has  drifted  away  from  specula- 
tion, and  that  the  surmises  of  Philosophy 
have  been  abandoned  for  the  more  sober 
teachings  of  experience.  With  this  opin- 
ion I  am  unable  to  concur.  Were  it  cor- 
rect, it  should  be  described  as  a  temporary 
aberration  of  the  human  intellect,  desert- 
ing the  "  philosophia  perennis  "  in  behalf  of 
an  empiricism,  which  —  in  the  sphere  of 
half-truths  —  is  as  easily  demonstrable,  as 
it  is  commonplace  and  crude.  But  such 
an  interpretation  of  the  spirit  of  our  age 
is  altogether  superficial.  Far  and  wide 
throughout  the  republic  of  letters,  in  Brit- 
ain, on  the  Continent,  and  in  America, 
there  are  authentic  signs  of  a  general  re- 
naissance of  Philosophy.  Within  the  last 
quarter  of  a  century  those  speculative 
problems  —  which  are  the  theme  of  peren- 
nial debate  in  the  metaphysical  schools  — 
have  awakened  an  interest,  that  is  pro- 
phetic of  a  new  future  for  philosophy. 
There  has  been  a  remarkable  quickening 
of  the  spirit  of  inquiry  into  all  radical 
questions,  and  a  far  clearer  understanding 


ETHICAL    PHILOSOPHY.  \\\ 

of  their  issues  ;  while  the  j^eneral  mind, 
both  in  Euroi)e  and  America,  may  be  said 
to  be  face  to  face  with  proljlems,  which, 
in  the  last  f^'cneration,  were  confined  to  a 
few  scholars,  or  recluse  sj:)cculative  men. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  trace  the  causes, 
European  or  insular,  which  havc^  led  to 
this  result ;  it  is  enough  to  note  it  as 
one  of  the  characteristics  of  our  age.  In- 
stead of  Philosophy  being  superseded,  or 
submerged  in  Science,  there  are  indica- 
tions of  a  notable  reaction  in  its  favor, 
and  of  its  vigorous  pursuit  in  unexpected 
quarters.  The  splendor  and  rapid  march 
of  the  physical  sciences,  which  threat- 
ened for  a  time  to  eclipse  if  not  to  extin- 
guish interest  in  the  older  ]:)roblcms  which 
lie  behind  them,  has  merely  opened  up 
fresh  pathways  converging,  as  before,  on 
Philosophy  as  the  scicntia  scioitiarum  ; 
and  in  the  chief  tendencies  at  work  at  the 
great  educational  centres,  every  one  may 
see  the  reawakening  of  speculative  thought. 
The  whole  literary  atmosphere  is  charged 
with  Philosophy.  The  leaders  of  physical 
research  are  dealing  with  metaphysical 
questions.  The  topics  with  which  modern 
science  is  most  engrossed  are  speculative 


112  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

ones.  In  the  doctrines  of  evolution  and 
transformation  of  energy  we  not  only  find 
the  revival  of  old  metaphysical  theories 
under  a  new  scientific  dress,  but,  apart 
from  philosophy,  these  questions  are  still, 
as  formerly,  incapable  of  solution.  The 
recent  literature  of  Philosophy  is  also  rich 
in  treatises  which  are  greatly  in  advance 
of  the  contributions  of  the  previous  age. 
Without  naming  any  particular  work  or 
writer,  I  may  refer  to  such  phenomena 
as  these  :  The  encounters  between  the 
most  accomplished  physicists  and  meta- 
physicians on  ground  common  to  both 
(the  same  problem  being  approached  by 
the  one  from  beneath,  and  by  the  other 
from  above)  ;  the  interest  awakened  in  the 
problems  of  sociology  ;  the  light  which 
has  been  cast  by  philosophic  criticism 
on  much  that  was  deemed  inexplicable 
in  the  records  of  the  past  ;  the  remark- 
able development  of  the  historical  and 
comparative  methods  of  research,  as  well 
as  of  those  purely  critical  and  analytic ; 
the  attention  given  to  the  great  masters 
of  ancient  wisdom,  especially  to  the  lead- 
ers of  the  Greek  schools  ;  the  opening  up 
of  fresh  sources  of  information  as  to  In- 


K  1 1  lie  A  L    I  'IIIL  OSOFH  V.  I  1  3 

clian  and  Oriental  thought ;  tlic  establish- 
ment of  new  journals  and  societies  espe- 
cially devoted  to  psychological,  metaphys- 
ical, and  ethical  study ;  —  these  are  only  a 
few  of  the  signs  of  the  working  of  the  phi- 
losophic spirit,  and  the  revival  of  specula- 
tion in  our  time.  I  may  add  that  all  the 
higher  poetry  and  religious  literature  of 
the  world  arc  saturated  with  Philosophy  as 
perhaps  at  no  previous  period  in  history. 
Everywhere  inquiry  converges  on  first 
principles.  Even  those  who  abjure  meta- 
physics unconsciously  philosophize  in  their 
rejection  of  it;  while  the  subdivision  of  in- 
tellectual labor  —  due  to  the  growing  com- 
plexity of  culture,  and  the  increasing  num- 
ber of  those  who  devote  their  lives  to 
research  —  has  widened  the  area,  as  well 
as  deepened  the  lines  of  investigation. 

One  result  of  this  diffusion  of  interest 
in  the  questions  of  Philosoph)-,  and  the 
popularization  of  its  problems,  is  a  better 
understanding  —  up  to  a  certain  point  — 
of  the  great  rival  systems.  There  is  more 
eclecticism  in  the  intellectual  air.  It  is 
beginning  to  be  recognized  that  opinions, 
which,  when  fully  developed,  come  into 
sharp  collision  with  each  other,  may  spring 


114  /iSSAiS  nV  PHILOSOPHY. 

from  a  common  root  of  truth  ;  and  that, 
in  their  origin,  they  may  be  only  a  way 
of  throwing  emphasis  on  this  or  that  side 
of  a  fact  that  is  equally  admitted  by  the 
advocates  of  opposing  schools.  It  is  being 
seen  that  no  system  of  Philosophy  which 
has  lived,  and  won  the  assent  of  intellec- 
tual men,  is  entirely  false  ;  and  that  no  one 
which  has  passed  away  is  absolutely  true. 
Every  one  now  recognizes  that  the  most 
perfect  system  of  belief  is  doomed  to  ex- 
tinction, as  certainly  as  the  least  perfect. 
From  none  can  error  be  eliminated  ;  and 
the  longevity  of  each  is  mainly  due  to  the 
pressure  within  it  of  elements  that  are  pe- 
rennial over  those  that  are  accidental  and 
casual.  In  the  most  erroneous,  there  is 
some  truth  and  excellence  concealed ; 
while,  in  the  most  true,  error,  partiality, 
and  bias  invariably  lie  hid.  In  the  recog- 
nition of  this  fact  is  contained  the  prin- 
ciple of  catholicity  in  thought,  and  of  tol- 
eration in  practice.  The  old  maxim,  that 
"every  error  is  a  truth  abused,"  remains 
the  basis  of  a  wise  and  sober  electicism. 

It  is  also  true  that  the  causes  which  have 
hitherto  led  to  differences  of  philosophical 
opinion   are  permanent  ones,   working    in 


ETHICAL  rnii.osoriiY.  115 

the  blood  aiul  brain  of  the  race  ;  and  some 
recent  discussions  in  Philosophy  have 
shown  the  inveteracy  with  which  the  dis- 
cij^lcs  of  particular  schools  continue  to  in- 
teri:)ret  facts  in  their  own  way,  and  the 
strength  of  the  constitutional  bias  which 
incapacitates  certain  minds  from  seeing 
both  sides  of  a  question. 

The  causes  which  differentiate  the 
schools  of  Philosophy  arise  at  once  from 
the  individuality  of  the  system-builders, 
and  from  the  thousand  influences  by  which 
each  is  either  consciously  or  unconsciously 
affected.  The  former  of  these  causes  is 
due  to  remote  ancestral  tendencies,  de- 
scending in  the  line  of  hereditary  succes- 
sion, from  no  one  knows  how  distant  a 
fountain-head,  as  well  as  to  the  creative 
power  of  the  system-builder  working  in 
the  present  hour.  The  latter  may  be 
traced  in  the  education  he  has  undergone, 
and  in  the  examples  that  have  moulded 
him  from  his  infancy.  Native  idiosyn- 
crasy, temperamental  bias,  and  the  force  of 
surroundings  determine  the  character  of 
the  opinions  formed,  and  the  type  of  the 
system  that  results. 

It  follows  that  the  rigorous  logician,  in 


Il6  £SSAyS  LV  PHILOSOPHY. 

his  dislike  of  what  is  vague  or  paradoxical, 
will  of  necessity  be  unjust  to  the  mystic 
intuitionalist ;  while  the  latter  may  fail  to 
appreciate  the  prosaic  love  of  fact,  the  de- 
mand for  verification.,  the  desire  that  the  in- 
tellectual firmament  should  be  clear  of  mist, 
and  that  dislike  of  all  nebulous  and  impal- 
pable theories,  which  is  invariably  shown  by 
the  disciples  of  experience.  These  things 
must  survive  in  the  future,  and  determine 
the  alternate  \'ictory  of  opposing  schools 
of  thought,  in  much  the  same  way  as  they 
influence  the  sphere  of  politics.  It  is  as 
irrational  to  believe  that  one  particular 
school  {intuitional  or  experiential,  a  priori 
or  a  posteriori)  will  dominate  in  the  future, 
as  it  is  to  suppose  that  the  supremacy  of  a 
Conservative  Government  will  be  perpet- 
ual ;  or  that,  if  turned  out  of  office,  it  will 
not  come  back,  in  due  time,  with  a  major- 
ity. No  political  party  can  remain  perma- 
nently in  power.  The  same  causes  that 
lead  to  its  elevation,  tend  to  its  depression, 
and  to  the  future  enthronement  of  its  rival. 
Similarly,  the  great  pendulum  of  human 
thought  continues — and  must  continue  — 
to  oscillate  throughout  the  ages  ;  and  the 
historical  succession  of  opposite  schools  is 


E 77/ /CA L    I'UIL OSOFJI Y.  \\J 

inevitable.  If  the  dominant  Philosophy 
in  England  to-day  is  the  cxperientialism 
of  Locke,  it  is  certain  to  be  succeeded  by 
a  new  school  of  a  priori  ontologists.  For 
as  with  empires  and  dynasties,  so  with 
systems  of  opinion,  the  moment  of  the 
greatest  triumph  is  also  the  moment  of 
the  first  decline  and  fall.^  It  is  probable, 
however,  that  as  our  historical  knowledge 
becomes  more  thorough,  and  we  arc  better 
acquainted  with  the  philosophies  of  the 
past,  —  especially  with  the  causes  that 
have  led  to  the  rise  of  the  great  systems, 
—  there  will  be  a  more  general  and  ade- 
quate appreciation  of  each  ;  and  that  a  wise 
and  sober  eclecticism,  which  shuns  "  the 
falsehood  of  extremes,"  will  result.  The 
next  great  school  of  British  thought  will 
certainly  be  eclectic,  in  tone  and  character 
if  not  in  name.  It  may  be  more  pro- 
foundly eclectic  in  spirit,  if  it  is  not  so  in 
the  letter. 

It    is  to  be  observed,  however,  that  ec- 
lectic schools  are  usually  feeble  in   charac- 

1  It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  historical  succession  is 
equally  kept  up  by  the  rise  of  opposite  or  reactionary 
theories,  as  it  is  by  the  development  of  existing  opinion. 
Intellectual  progress  is  often  due  to  antagonistic  reac- 
tion, and  the  reappearance  of  discarded  theories. 


Il8  ESSAYS  IN  FlIILOSOFHY. 

ter,  and  barren  in  result,  and  that  they 
often  collapse  before  the  renewed  vigor  of 
some  sectarian  movement.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  there  has  been  a  want  of  inner 
coherency  in  many  of  them  ;  and  if  they 
are  the  offspring  of  compromise,  or  consist 
in  a  mere  miscellaneous  piecing  together 
of  the  details  of  opposite  systems,  —  so 
that  the  result  is  an  artificial  patchwork, 
or  at  best  an  intellectual  mosaic,  —  no 
other  result  than  sterility  is  possible. 

The  nature  of  Philosophy,  as  distin- 
guished from  ordinary  knowledge,  will  best 
lie  understood  through  a  series  of  con- 
trasts, which  lead  up  to  the  main  char- 
acteristic difference.  The  first  distinction 
is  between  a  liberal  and  a  professional  ed- 
ucation;  the  second,  the  distinction  be- 
tween the  objective  and  the  subjective  in 
knowledge  ;  the  third,  between  the  seeming 
and  the  real ;  the  fourth,  between  science 
and  philosophy. 

In  the  light  of  these  distinctions,  we 
shall  see  that  it  is  the  aim  of  Philosophy 
to  escape  from  the  illusions  of  inherited 
or  acquired  belief,  that  it  may  reach  the 
ultimate  ground  of  human  knowledge  ;  and 
this  may  be  further  described  as  either  an 


ETHICAL   I'HILO.SOl'HY.  119 

ascent  above,  or  a  descent  beneath,  our 
secondary  opinions  to  the  region  of  first 
principles.  We  shall  see  that  its  aim  is 
to  reach  the  permanent  and  abiding,  as 
contrasted  with  the  incessantly  changing 
aspects  of  phenomenal  existence  ;  and  that 
its  function  is  to  get  behind  all  the  meta- 
phoric  modes  of  thought,  or  pictured  repre- 
sentations of  reality,  to  the  reality  itself 
which  pictures  and  symbols  represent. 
The  common  consciousness  of  mankind  is 
in  bondage  to  the  concrete  and  the  picto- 
rial. It  sees  essence  only  in  the  light  of 
symbol,  and  confuses  the  two  together. 
Philosophy  distinguishes  them,  and  con- 
ducts from  the  symbol  to  the  thing  sym- 
bolized ;  while  it  seeks  the  one  ultimate 
ground  of  all  detached  and  fragmentary 
knowledge.  It  is  the  quest  for  that  su- 
preme unity,  in  the  vision  of  which  the 
separateness  and  detail  of  miscellaneous 
knowledge  is  lost  to  view.  Thus  Philoso- 
phy teaches  that  beyond  the  customary 
and  traditional,  behind  the  pictorial  and 
concrete,  within  the  changing,  and  beneath 
the  miscellaneous,  lies  the  sphere  of  the 
true,  the  real,  the  sempiternal,  and  the  one. 
Havine:  ascertained  what  it  is  we  are  to 


I20  /■:ssAys  /.v  philosofhy. 

study,  — with  its  uses,  and  its  place  in  the 
curriculum  of  a  liberal  education,  —  we 
must  next  determine  on  the  method  to  be 
pursued  in  our  inquiries.  These  questions, 
however,  are  merely  preliminary,  leading 
up  to  the  specific  problem  of  ctJiics.  It  is 
not  Philosophy  in  general  but  Moral  Phi- 
losophy in  particular  thai  is  to  be  studied 
by  us  ;  and  its  sphere  and  province  may 
be  defined  in  either  of  two  ways. 

In  the  first  place,  we  may  consider  it  in 
its  relation  to,  and  in  its  distinction  from, 
the  other  branches  which  grow  out  of  the 
common  root  of  human  knowledge,  such 
as  science,  theology,  politics,  and  oesthet- 
ics.  Its  sphere  and  its  boundaries  cannot 
be  accurately  known,  till  they  are  known 
in  the  light  of  those  relations,  which  con- 
nect it  inseparably  with  the  provinces 
which  border  it,  on  the  right  hand  and  on 
the  left.  P^or  example,  it  is  organically 
related  to  psychology.  It  is  vitally  con- 
nected with  theology.  It  is  indissolubly  al- 
lied to  sociolog}'.  It  has  a  close  relation  to 
physiology.  And  yet,  on  tb.e  other  hand, 
ethics  has  repeatedly  suffered  from  undue 
encroachment  by  each  of  these  correlated 
departments  of   knowledge.      Now,   it   has 


ETHICAL    J'llILOSOl'lJV  121 

been  regarded  as  an  appendix  or  subsce- 
tion  of  psychology  ;  again,  it  has  been 
sunk  in  mctaphysic,  the  distinction  be- 
tween the  psychology  and  the  nietaphysic 
of  ethics  being  ignored.  It  has  been  re- 
garded as  a  simple  corollary  to  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  phenomena  of  organization  : 
that  is  to  say,  it  has  been  sunk  in  physiol- 
ogy. It  has  also  been  described  as  a 
province  once  independent,  but  now  con- 
quered and  annexed  by  the  Christian  re- 
ligion. These  are  illegitimate  curtailments 
or  supi^ressions.  And  the  penalty  of  tres- 
pass, by  any  recognized  body  of  knowledge 
upon  the  domain  of  another,  is  always  a 
weakening  of  the  enlarged  province,  which 
is  made  too  wide  by  its  attempted  annex- 
ation of  another.  As,  in  the  political  his- 
tory of  a  people,  the  conquest  of  alien 
states  and  the  annexation  of  distant  terri- 
tory are  the  invariable  prelude  to  national 
disaster — as  they  lead  to  the  breaking  up 
of  the  kingdom  that  has  overgrown,  or  of 
the  commonwealth  that  has  become  too 
vast  —  so,  in  the  realm  of  knowledge,  a 
"lengthening  of  cords"  is  not  always  ac- 
companied by  a  corresponding  "strength- 
ening of  stakes." 


122  J-^SSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

At  present  the  chief  encroachment  on 
the  sphere  of  Ethics  comes  from  the  side 
of  physical  science,  or  physiology.  In  the 
last  generation  it  frequently  came  from  the 
side  of  religion  :  that  is  to  say,  many  Eng- 
lish writers  supposed  that  the  function  of 
what  they  called  "  natural  ethics,"  as  dis- 
tinguished from  "revealed  morality,"  was 
gone.  To  the  question,  whether  the  rules 
of  conduct,  discoverable  by  reason  and  in- 
tuition, or  gathered  by  experience,  were 
valid  guides  to  action,  it  was  replied  that 
they  were  not ;  because  Christianity  had 
taken  the  place  of  natural  morality,  and 
superseded  it.  This  distinction,  however, 
is  invalid.  What  is  "natural"  cannot  be 
superseded.  It  cannot  even  be  placed  in 
a  category  opposite  to  what  is  "revealed." 
The  real  distinction  and  contrast  is  be- 
tween what  is  natural,  and  what  is  artifi- 
cial. The  fact  that  anything  has  been 
"  revealed  "  merely  implies  that  it  was  pre- 
viously unknown,  or  lay  in  shadow  ;  and 
the  disclosure  of  every  truth,  however  it 
may  happen  to  have  come  to  light,  is, 
strictly  speaking,  a  revelation.  Its  simple 
occurrence  has  all  the  force  of  a  revelation, 
whether  it  belongs  to  the  sphere  of  morals 


ETHICAL   nilLOSOTHY.  I  23 

or  relipjion.  We  shall  sec,  as  our  course 
proceeds,  how  the  one  province  is  indebted 
to  the  other ;  and  how,  by  the  spirituaUty 
of  its  ideal,  Christianity  has  given  the  hu- 
man race  a  moral  leverage  in  the  pursuit 
of  virtue  unknown  to  the  ancient  schools. 
But  it  is  equally  necessary  to  vindicate  the 
integrity  and  independence  of  ethics,  as  it 
is  to  point  out  how  far,  and  in  what  direc- 
tions, it  is  beholden  to  religion. 

The  second  method,  by  which  the  sphere 
of  ethics  may  be  defined,  is  by  a  condensed 
summary  of  its  chief  problems,  which  may 
be  presented  in  the  form  of  answers  to  the 
following  questions  :  (i.)  What  are  the  facts 
of  man's  moral  nature  }  how  are  we  con- 
stituted, and  endowed,  as  moral  agents.'' 
(2.)  How  has  human  nature  come  to  be 
what  it  is  }  out  of  what  prior  conditions  or 
elements  has  it  emerged  }  In  other  words, 
what  are  the  causes  or  forces  —  individual 
and  social,  temperamental  and  racial  — 
that  have  determined  the  moral  devel- 
opment of  humanity,  and  working  in  uni- 
son have  fashioned  the  destiny  of  each 
agent }  The  "  natural  history  "  of  morals 
will  be  treated  under  this  head,  or  the 
growth   of  ethical  ideas  out  of  their  rudi- 


124  ASSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

mentary  types ;  and  the  curious  phases 
which  the  moral  consciousness  has  under- 
gone in  the  course  of  its  evolution  will  be 
discussed.  {3.)  What  ought  man  morally  to 
be  ?  The  contrast  between  the  actual  and 
the  ideal,  between  human  aspiration  and 
attainment,  with  the  authority  of  con- 
science, and  the  nature  of  free  will,  fall  to 
be  considered  under  this  head.  (4.)  How 
can  human  nature  attain  to  its  ideal,  and 
be  brought  into  practical  accordance  with 
law  and  order  .'  By  what  power  or  process 
can  moral  harmony  be  reached,  the  discord 
of  the  powers  abolished,  and  the  ethical 
ideal  be  made  real,  in  experience  .''  In 
other  words,  how  can  man  reach  his  des- 
tiny .''  Under  this  fourth  head  of  inquiry 
the  relation  between  Ethics  and  Religion 
comes  again  to  be  considered. 

Having  answered  these  four  questions  in 
detail,  the  great  systems  of  ^^loral  Philos- 
ophy, ancient  and  modern,  must  be  histor- 
ically and  critically  discussed.  The  stream 
of  ethical  opinion  must  be  followed  from 
the  Greek  schools  onwards,  with  the  view 
more  especially  of  exhibiting  the  genealogy 
of  doctrine,  and  the  "  increasing  purpose" 
of   the  various  systems.     At  the  close   of 


/; / •///(•.'/ /.  / 'in I. osoriiv.  125 

this  investigation  \vc  shall  return  to  the 
phenomena  of  the  moral  consciousness, 
and  ask,  what  arc  the  inferences  deduciblc 
from  it,  or  its  implicates,  as  to  the  divine 
nature,  and  the  destiny  of  the  huniati  soul  ? 
Thus,  our  ethical  inquiries  will  naturally 
lead  to  theolop^v  and  religion. 

From  this  brief  preliminary  outline,  it 
will  be  seen  that  it  is  the  phenomena  of 
human  character  which,  in  the  first  in- 
stance, supply  the  ethical  student  with  his 
field  of  observation.  The  area  of  that 
field  is  a  wide  one.  It  includes  all  our  de- 
sires and  affections,  the  emotions  and  the 
will,  with  the  practical  activities  and  devel- 
oped habits  which  are  the  outcome  of  char- 
acter. It  embraces  all  that  exists,  and  is 
evolved,  within  the  plastic  region  of  human 
conduct, — a  region  various  and  manifold, 
at  times  heterogeneous  and  occult.  We 
begin  with  an  investigation  of  the  facts  of 
consciousness.  We  proceed  thence  to  an 
historical  inquiry  as  to  the  process  of  de- 
velopment by  which  these  facts  have  come 
to  be  what  they  now  are.  This  leads  to 
the  further  question  of  the  meaning  of 
duty  (a  speculative  problem),  and  to  the 
conduct  of  life  (a  practical  discipline). 


126  ESSAYS  IX  pniLosorHY. 

In  its  most  comprehensive  aspect,  then, 
Moral  Philosophy  has  two  sides.  From 
its  connection  with  human  knowledge,  and 
from  the  necessity  of  our  having  an  intel- 
lectual root  or  ground  of  action,  it  is  a 
speculative  study.  From  its  connection 
with  conduct,  and  the  necessity  of  our 
realizing  in  life  and  action  the  princi- 
ples of  which  it  seeks  the  explanation,  it 
is  a  practical  discipline.  As  a  body  of 
knowledge  it  stretches  between  theory  and 
practice,  and  is  the  arch  which  spans  the 
chasm  connecting  speculation  and  action. 
On  one  side,  it  is  the  theory  of  our  prac- 
tice ;  on  the  other,  it  is  the  practice  of  the 
theory  we  adopt.  Speculatively  consid- 
ered, it  is  a  systematized  body  of  knowl- 
edge dealing  with  human  conduct.  Its  aim 
is  to  explain  the  nature  and  to  determine 
the  rationale  of  duty.  It  considers  man, 
however,  not  merely  as  a  knower  and  con- 
templator,  but  also  as  an  actor  ;  as  a  prac- 
tical being  whose  conduct  is  susceptible  of 
direct  regulation  and  indirect  control.  As- 
certaining the  laws  which  govern  charac- 
ter, it  essays  an  explanation  of  habit,  \\x\- 
deavoring  to  unfold  the  relation  between 
conduct  and  welfare,  it  distinguishes  while  it 


F.rmCAL   FIlILOSOJ'llY.  12/ 

connects  duty  and  happiness.  So  far  as  it 
confines  itself  within  the  region  of  facts,  it 
is  simply  a  branch  of  i:)sych()logy.  It  is 
ethical  psychology,  or  the  psychology  of 
the  moral,  as  distinguished  from  the  in- 
tellectual consciousness.  When,  however, 
we  ask  the  meaning  of  duty,  or  seek  the 
rationale  of  conduct,  we  transcend  the  phe- 
nomenal sphere.  Our  inquiry  becomes  a 
speculative  one.  Rising  into  the  meta- 
physic  of  ethics,  it  is  ontological  rather 
than  scientific. 

To  put  it  otherwise,  we  stand  in  certain 
definite  relations  to  our  fellow-men,  as 
members  of  the  same  social  organism,  and 
definite  duties  follow  or  flow  from  these 
relations.  So  long  as  we  investigate  these, 
dealing  with  them  merely  as  facts,  in  order 
that  we  may  discover  the  laws  which  under- 
lie the  phenomena,  —  facts  of  which  the 
phenomena  are  the  expression,  and  the  laws 
the  explanation,  —  we  are  simply  studying 
what  happens,  and  the  manner  of  its  hap- 
pening. But  the  moment  we  raise  the 
further  question  of  the  meaning  of  duty, 
and,  perceiving  that  there  is  a  frequent 
contrariety  between  what  we  are  and  what 
we  ought  to  be,  ask  zvhy  we  ought  to  be 


128  /;.s-.sw):v  /.v  piiilosopiiy. 

other  than  we  are,  or  have  been,  then  we 
have  left  the  region  of  moral  psychology, 
and  entered  that  of  the  metaphysic  of  ethic. 
We  experience  a  strife  between  desire  and 
duty,  between  appetite  and  reason  ;  and,  in 
asking  its  explanation,  the  philosophy  of 
morals  emerges.  In  our  early  years  of  ob- 
jectivity and  unrefiectiveness  no  such  in- 
quiry is  ever  raised  by  us ;  nor  is  it  then 
needed.  What  is,  what  happens  —  the  ac- 
tual and  the  existing  —  satisfies  us;  or,  if  it 
does  not,  we  seek  satisfaction  simply  by  a 
change  in  our  circumstances  and  surround- 
ings. Gradually,  however,  there  comes 
to  all  of  us  a  sense  of  imperfection  and  in- 
adequacy. We  are  haunted  by  a  feeling  of 
the  unattained,  while  we  have  occasional 
glimpses  of  an  ideal  that  is  at  once  above 
us,  and  within  our  reach.  As  soon  as  this 
is  perceived,  it  acts  like  a  whetstone  to  our 
inquiries  into  the  meaning  or  rationale  of 
duty.  The  mere  register  of  moral  phe- 
nomena no  longer  satisfies  us.  The  rec- 
ord of  particular  subjective  states,  simple 
or  complex,  —  of  desires  as  phenomenal 
causes,  or  emotions  as  phenomenal  effects, 
— -  cannot  satisfy  the  speculative  craving 
that   has    been   awakened.      Detail   of   that 


ETHICAL    PHILOSOPHY.  129 

kind  is  now  regarded  merely  as  a  collec- 
tion of  preliminary  data,  which  may  serve 
as  the  raw  material  for  a  philosophy  of 
morals. 

I  thus  distinguish  between  ethical  sci- 
ence and  ethical  philosophy.  Philosophy 
is  not  a  department  of  science,  nor  is 
science  a  branch  of  philosophy.  Their 
provinces  are  distinct,  though  closely  re- 
lated at  their  frontier  margins.  Ethical 
science  deals  with  the  phenomena  of  our 
moral  nature  in  all  their  length  and 
breadth  ;  ethical  philosophy  deals  with  the 
inner  essence  of  these  facts,  in  its  height 
and  in  its  depth,  as  well  as  with  the  link 
which  connects  them  indissolubly  together. 
Science  treats  of  the  coexistences  and 
succession  of  phenomena,  and  of  the  laws 
which  may  be  generalized  from  them.  It 
docs  not  attempt  to  reach  the  substrate 
underlying  the  phenomena,  or  the  nexus 
by  which  they  are  united.  Philosophy  pur- 
sues both  the  substrate  and  the  nexus.  In 
so  doing,  it  seeks  the  ultimate  meaning 
of  the  whole,  as  a  unity  ;  and  it  will  not 
relinquish  its  search,  though  science  may 
affirm  that  its  quest  is  as  vain  as  the  pur- 
suit   of    the    sanfrreal.     Startins;  from  the 


130  ESSAYS   IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

facts  of  experience,  it  seeks  a  theory  of 
these  facts.  It  deduces  inferences,  which 
the  phenomena  do  not  yield  by  way  of  gen- 
eralization, but  by  way  of  necessary  im{)li- 
cation,  or  as  causes  requisite  to  account 
for  effects  otherwise  unexplainable. 

Thus,  to  sum  up,  we  may  distinguish  be- 
tween the  science  of  morals  and  the  phi- 
losophy of  duty,  as  we  distinguish  the  psy- 
chology of  cognition  from  the  philosophy 
of  knowledge,  or  the  science  of  taste  from 
the  philosophy  of  the  beautiful.  In  each 
case,  psychology  precedes,  and  metaphysic 
succeeds. 

The  usual  distinction  between  meta- 
physic and  ethic  is  the  source  of  an  illusion. 
If  there  is  a  "metaphysic  of  ethic,"  the  two 
spheres  are  not  independent  of  each  other, 
but  the  one  is  the  root  of  the  other ;  that 
is  to  say,  the  metaphysical  inquiry  is  an 
inquiry  into  the  root  or  ground  of  the 
ethical  phenomena  ;  just  as,  in  another 
province,  the  metaphysical  inquiry  con- 
cerns the  root  of  intellectual  phenomena, 
and  as  in  a  third  region  it  deals  with  the 
ground  of  all  esthetic  phenomena.  They 
are  related  as  the  porch  or  vestibule  is  re- 
lated to  the  shrine.     I  would  thus  classify. 


ETHICAL   rniLOSOPUV.  F3[ 

as  three  separate  provinces,  the  Science  of 
knowlecl<;e,  of  duty,  and  of  taste  ;  setting; 
over  against  these  respectively  the  three 
kindred,  and  co-related  though  indepen- 
dent, dci)artments  of  the  Philosophy  of 
knowledge,  of  duty,  and  of  taste.  This  is, 
however,  to  anticipate  what  it  will  be  the 
aim  of  subsequent  discussion  to  make  ap- 
parent. 

It  may  be  rash  to  express  an  opinion  as 
to  the  precise  point  which  Ethical  Philoso- 
phy has  reached  in  the  ever-advancing 
stream  of  speculation.  This,  with  a  state- 
ment of  desiderata,  or  problems  that  await 
solution,  may  fittingly  be  postponed.  It  is 
meanwhile  more  important  to  note  the 
bearing  of  the  doctrine  of  Evolution  on 
the  origin  of  the  moral  faculty  ;  a  question 
of  frequent  debate  in  the  ethical  schools, 
—  one  not  unknown  to  antiquity,  nor  un- 
successfully handled  before  the  rise  of 
modern  scientific  method,  —  but  which  has 
come  more  prominently  to  the  front  in  the 
recent  literature  of  philosophy. 

Before,  however,  we  can  estimate  the 
bearing  of  the  doctrine  of  Evolution  on 
ethics,  we  must  have  a  precise  idea  of  the 
doctrine  itself.     It  has  been  alleged  that  if 


132  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

the  general  principle  of  development  be 
established,  its  application  to  the  sphere 
of  morality  is  only  a  matter  of  detail ;  and 
that  the  derivation  of  all  the  moral  life  and 
consciousness  of  the  race,  out  of  elements 
originally  non-moral,  is  no  longer  an  hypoth- 
esis, but  is  a  fact  scientifically  known. 
In  order  to  estimate  the  value  of  this  as- 
sertion, we  must  first  see  to  what  the  doc- 
trine amounts,  and  what  is  the  evidence  in 
its  favor. 

Experience,  individual  and  collective, 
shows  that  every  organism  and  every  char- 
acter alters  by  minute  and  imperceptible 
changes,  that  each  is  incessantly  varying, 
that  its  very  life  is  a  series  of  changes. 
Further,  every  living  organism,  as  it  gives 
rise  to  others,  transmits  an  altered  struc- 
ture, and  originates  a  change  of  type. 
So  much  is  within  the  easily  verifiable 
range  of  experience,  and  even  of  com- 
monplace observation.  The  theory  of  de- 
velopment further  suggests  that  we  may 
account  for  all  the  differences  which  now 
exist  in  the  scale  of  Nature,  the  immense 
varieties  of  organic  phenomena,  by  a  slow 
succession  of  similar  changes,  indefinitely 
prolonged   in   ever-varying    circumstances, 


ETHICAL    FIIILOSOrHY.  I  33 

each  one  imi)erceptibly  minute.  Thus  it 
will  be  seen  that  the  doctrine,  fully  carried 
out,  abolishes  the  distinction  between  gen- 
era and  species,  as  well  as  the  difference 
between  species  and  individuals,  all  of 
these  being  merely  conventional  distinc- 
tions. They  are  the  names  which  con- 
veniently mark  off  organisms  one  from 
another,  when  the  process  of  evolution  has 
gone  so  far,  and  been  in  operation  so  long, 
that  its  divergencies  require  to  be  signal- 
ized in  detail,  and  described  at  various 
points.  The  whole  series,  having  been 
rigidly  developed  out  of  antecedent  ele- 
ments, and  continuing  still  to  develop,  the 
notion  of  independent  types  disappears. 
All  is  process  ;  the  products  are  simply 
processes  prolonged.  What  is  reached  at 
any  one  stage,  however,  is  necessarily  evan- 
escent.  Nothing  can  exist  for  all  time. 
Each  exists  for  its  own  time,  and  perishes, 
only  to  make  way  for  an  equally  perish- 
able successor. 

Now,  if  we  cannot  suppose  that  any 
organisms  spring  up  dc  novo,  without  natu- 
ral ancestry,  and  that  any  arrive  on  our 
earth  as  foreigners  from  another  planet, 
whence  can  they  severally  spring }     If  we 


134  ESSAYS   LV  PHJLOSOFJJY. 

exclude  spontaneous  generation  and  for- 
eign arrival,  we  hai'e  but  two  possible  theo- 
ries. Either  all  have  always  existed  in 
some  form  or  other  and  are  only  under- 
going a  series  of  transformations  in  time  ; 
or  each  has  been  developed  out  of  a  differ- 
ent and  lower  stage,  in  the  incessant  com- 
petition and  struggle  for  existence.  The 
present  indefinite  complexity  of  organic 
forms  may  be  explained,  either  by  the  eter- 
nal existence  of  an  indefinite  number  of 
fixed  ideal  types,  which  are  revealing  them- 
selves in  the  varieties  of  concrete  exist- 
ence, or  by  the  incessant  evolution  of  one 
protean  principle,  which  in  the  transforma- 
tion of  life  is  assuming  endlessly  varied 
phenomenal  forms. 

We  may  safely  assume  that  the  phys- 
ical miracle  of  the  creation  of  new  types, 
whether  in  the  form  of  the  spontaneous 
generation  of  minute  organisms,  or  the 
sudden  appearance  of  creatures  more 
highly  organized,  is  not  now  taking  place, 
spasmodically.  If  we  had  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  it  had  ever  happened,  we 
should  have  equal  reason  to  conclude  that 
it  was  occurring  perpetually,  that  the  mir- 
acle never  ceased  ;  which  would,  in  turn, 


A  TIUCA  L    Fin  I C  ).SOF//  Y.  1^5 

abolish  its  miraculoiis  or  exceptional  char- 
acter. If,  however,  it  is  rash  to  affirm 
that  nothing  can  possibly  originate,  —  in 
the  form  of  organized  material  structure, 
— f>i'r  saltii))!,  it  is  not  rash,  but  only  the 
dictate  of  a  cautious  philosophy,  to  afifirm 
that,  since  we  have  no  experience  of  origi- 
nation in  this  way,  we  are  not  at  liberty  to 
assume  that  it  has  ever  taken  place.  Un- 
less we  discover  phenomena  that  can  be 
explained  in  no  otlicr  ivay,  —  phenomena 
which  remain  irreducible  and  inexplicable 
as  the  result  of  the  slow  modification  of 
ages,  —  we  have  no  scientific  right,  or  philo- 
sophical warrant,  for  assuming  any  break 
in  the  process  of  orderly  development  by 
law.  So  far,  then,  antecedent  presumption, 
grounded  on  experience,  is  in  favor  of  evo- 
lution. Evolution  is  the  rule  within  human 
experience.  Origination  per  saltnni  is  not 
even  an  exception  to  the  rule.  It  is  a  hy- 
pothesis called  in  to  exi:)lain  the  absence  of 
connecting  links  between  the  species  that 
exist,  the  differentiation  of  organic  t\'pes, 
and  the  remoteness  from  one  another  of  the 
individiKils  which  illustrate  these  types. 

Our  choice,  therefore,  does   not  lie  be- 
tween a  doctrine  of   continuous  evolution 


136  £SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

from  a  common  fountain-head  and  a  doc- 
trine of  successive  ori<^inations  at  intervals 
of  creative  activity,  repeated  throughout 
the  ages  in  linear  series,  —  the  protoplas- 
tic power  starting  into  action  after  a  long- 
period  of  slumber,  and  again  retiring  to 
rest.  The  latter  notion  must  be  laid  aside, 
as  inconsistent  with  any  elevated,  not  to 
say  reverential,  idea  of  the  creative  Power 
that  works  in  nature.  Our  choice  really 
lies  between  a  doctrine  of  continuous  ac- 
tivity and  unceasing  development  (all  things 
emanating  from  a  single  Source,  and  being 
the  outcome  of  a  solitary  principle,  end- 
lessly manifesting  itself  in  an  indefinite 
variety  of  forms)  ;  and  a  doctrine  of  fixed 
types,  or  eternal  essences,  like  the  "  arche- 
typal ideas  "  of  Plato,  which  have  always 
existed,  and  are  indestructible  types,  which 
emerge  and  reemerge  —  are  bf)rn,  die,  and 
reappear  —  in  the  incessant  change  and 
palingenesia  of  the  universe. 

I  do  not  think  that  the  theory  of  evolu- 
tion in  organic  nature  has  been  proved ; 
but  it  has  been  rendered  the  almost  inevi- 
table conclusion  of  the  scientific  intellect, 
dealing  inductively  with  the  facts  of  biol- 
ogy (especially  of  embryology)  and  pala^on- 


KiJUCAL  riin.osoj'nv.  13- 

tology.  I  do  not  speak  of  any  particular 
theory  of  "natural  selection  "  or  "heredity," 
but  of  the  general  doctrine  oi  evolution  as 
opjX)sed  to  cataclysmic  bursts  of  energy. 
The  proto[)lasni  of  the  nettle,  of  the  mol- 
lusk,  of  the  lizard,  and  of  man  is  chemically 
the  same.  The  rise  in  com[)lexit}'  of  struc- 
ture, from  the  lowest  organism  to  man, 
is  not  greater  or  more  striking  than  the 
series  of  changes  through  which  each  in- 
dividual passes  normally  from  the  embry- 
onic to  the  adult  state.  The  intermediate 
stages  between  the  lowest  form  of  vitality 
and  the  highest  are  successively  reached  by 
all  the  maturer  organisms,  so  that  we  may 
see  the  ascending  scale  of  animated  nature 
mirrored  and  summarized  in  the  evolution 
of  every  embryo.  Now,  the  marvel  to  hu- 
man intelligence,  in  the  development  of  a 
feathered  fowl  out  of  the  albumen  of  an 
egg,  is  not  intrinsically  greater  than  the 
evolution  of  all  the  flora  and  fauna  of  the 
universe  would  be,  supposing  it  to  proceed 
from  a  common  protoplasmic  germ.  We 
know  that  the  one  takes  place  incessantly. 
Its  mystery  is  forgotten,  in  its  constancy 
and  commonness.  The  other  is  unknown 
to  experience ;  but  there  is  no  obstacle  to 


1 3  8  j:ssa  vs  i.  v  fhil  osorn  \ '. 

it,  in  the  nature  of  things.  It  contains 
no  greater  mystery  than  the  former,  and 
its  future  demonstration  would  not  excite 
surprise.  Even  within  the  range  of  experi- 
ence, we  can  see  development  in  progress. 
Alike  in  the  animal  and  vegetable  king, 
doms,  amongst  the  foraminifera  and  the 
diatoms,  change  and  transformation,  zuithin 
a  li7nited field,  may  be  observed;  and  the 
development  of  higher  organisms  out  of 
lower  ones  is  only  an  inductive  inference, 
drawn  by  analogy,  from  the  phenomena 
that  fall  under  our  observation,  and  can  be 
experimentally  investigated.  Even  the  line 
between  the  animal  and  the  vegetable  can- 
not now  be  drawn  with  the  rigor  by  which 
the  naturalists  of  the  last  generation  used 
to  separate  the  kingdoms  of  Nature  ;  while 
modern  biology  will  in  all  likelihood  demon- 
strate the  actual  emergence  of  fresh  types 
of  organization  out  of  rudimentary  ones. 
In  this  there  will  be  no  surprise  to  science. 
It  is  to  be  noted,  however,  that  the  dis- 
covery of  a  palacontological  form,  intermedi- 
ate between  man  and  the  ape,  would  not 
prove  that  man  was  physically  the  desceud- 
ant  of  such  an  intermediate  ;  nor  would 
it  greatly  aid   the  controversy,  except   as 


ETHIC  A  r.  I'liiLOsornv.  139 

affordin<:j  a  new  link  in  the  chain  of  or- 
ganized existence.  The  theory  of  evolu- 
tion will  not  be  demonstrated  even  by  a 
discovery  of  all  the  missing  links  in  the 
chain  of  existence,  but  only  by  a  scientific 
use  of  the  links  which  wc  possess,  and  by 
warrantable  inferences  from  them. 

Does  the  vital,  however,  in  any  instance 
proceed  from  the  non-vital .'  Is  the  bound- 
ary between  the  animate  and  the  inani- 
mate as  precarious  as  that  which  separates 
the  animal  from  the  vegetable .'  This  ul- 
terior question,  which  is  one  of  the  gravest 
philosophical  import,  must  arise,  even 
supposing  that  the  derivation  of  all  the 
varieties  of  vital  existence  from  one  an- 
other were  a  demonstrated  conclusion  of 
science.  The  evolution  of  nature  may  be 
a  fact,  —  a  daily  and  hourly  apocalypse  ; 
but  certainly  we  have,  as  yet,  no  evi- 
dence of  the  non-vital  passing  into  the 
vital.  Spontaneous  generation  is  an  imag- 
inative guess,  unverified  by  scientific  tests. 
And  matter  is  not  itself  alive.  Mtality, 
whether  seen  in  a  single  cell  of  proto- 
plasm, or  in  the  human  brain,  is  a  thing  siii 
generis,  distinct  from  matter,  and  incapa- 
ble of  being  generated  out  of  matter. 


I40  A\SSA}'S  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

The  theory,  however,  that  all  the  higher 
organized  life  of  the  universe  has  arisen 
by  evolution  out  of  lower  forms  —  although 
the  material  never  gives  rise  to  the  men- 
tal, or  the  non-vital  to  the  vital  —  seems 
much  more  tenable  than  the  counter-theory 
to  which  I  have  referred,  namely,  that  there 
is  within  the  universe  a  fixed  but  indefi- 
nitely vast  number  of  distinct  types,  corre- 
sponding to  the  eternal  ideas  of  Plato,  each 
of  which  is  imprisoned  within  its  own 
domain,  and  is  kept  up  by  inheritance 
and  succession  only  within  its  limited 
area. 

It  should  be  noted  that  those  who  ex- 
plain the  rise  of  every  new  organized  pro- 
duct by  simple  evolution  demand  for  the 
accomplishment  of  the  process  a  length  of 
time  that  is  almost  inconceivably  vast.  It 
is  alarmed  by  their  opponents  that  the 
present  universe  carries  within  it  the  signs 
of  a  comparatively  recent  origin,  and  that 
it  is  traveling  at  no  distant  date  (though 
it  may  be  measured  by  millions  of  years) 
to  extinction  ;  so  that  its  beginning  and 
its  ending  are  alike  evidenced  by,  and  in- 
volved in,  its  present  state.  This  af^rma- 
tion    rests    on    evidence    that    is    probably 


ETHICAL   PHILOSOPHY.  141 

quite  hidden  to  one  who  is  not  a  spccinlist 
in  physical  science.  Certainly,  if  either 
the  unscientific  or  the  speculative  mind 
is  to  receive  it,  it  must  be  received  on 
trust.  No  evidence  appreciable  by  the  or- 
dinary mind  has  been  advanced  to  prove 
such  a  limited  duration  to  the  existing 
matter  of  the  universe,  or  of  the  globe  we 
inhabit,  as  to  render  the  evolution  of  all  its 
organized  products  impossible  within  the 
period. 

Let  us  suppose,  however,  the  fact  of  evo- 
lution to  be  proved,  and  every  missing  link 
in  the  chain  of  derivation  to  be  supplied, 
the  question  would  remain,  From  zuhat  is 
the  zi'JioIc  scries  evolved?  If  the  higher  is 
evolved  from  the  lower,  as  a  fowl  is  from 
the  Qgg,  and  the  man  from  the  child,  from 
what  is  the  lower  derived  .^  What  started 
the  whole  process  of  derivation  }  If  no 
hiatus  is  permissible  between  any  link  in 
the  chain  of  organization,  whence  did  the 
first  in  the  series  proceed  .'  Suppose  that, 
in  our  regress  towards  the  beginnings  of 
life,  we  have  reached  the  lowermost  step 
of  the  descending  scale,  are  we  at  liberty 
to  suppose  a  hiatus  in  the  orderly  develop- 
ment, millions  of  ages  ago,  when  the  first 


142  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

germs  of  vitality  started  into  being  ?  Did 
the  vital  proceed  by  a  still  remoter  devel- 
opment from  the  non-vital  ?  or,  was  it 
created  by  a  fiat  of  volition  ?  or,  Jias  it  al- 
zvays  existed  in  some  form  or  other  as  an 
eternal  constituejit  of  the  universe  ?  I  do 
not  see  how  we  can  escape  from  the  last 
alternative.  The  first  is  the  evolution 
theory  in  its  completest  form,  which  as- 
signs a  material  origin  to  all  spiritual  phe- 
nomena. The  second  is  quite  as  arbitrary, 
if  it  be  thrust  into  the  series  of  evolving 
phenomena  far  back  in  the  process,  —  at 
an  imaginary  creative  epoch  in  the  morn- 
ing of  time,  —  as  it  is  when  capriciously 
introduced  between  the  links  of  the  causal 
nexus  now.  The  supposition  that  it  is 
more  likely  to  have  taken  place  in  a  dis- 
tant age  than  at  present  is  like  relegating 
the  age  of  miracle  to  an  imaginary  mythic 
time,  when  earth  was  nearer  heaven  than 
now,  and  so  degrading  the  idea.  \\q  are  the 
victims  of  metaphoric  illusion  in  supposing 
instantaneous  creation  to  be  one  whit  ea- 
sier "in  the  beginning"  than  now.  If  time 
has  had  no  "morning"  and  will  have  no 
"evening,"  creation  is  as  real  at  the  present 
moment  as  it  ever  was.     The  notion  that 


ETHICAL  rnn.osoriiY.  143 

theism  is  inconsistent  with  a  belief  in  the 
eternity  of  matter  has  proceeded  from  the 
fear  that,  with  matter  eternally  provided, 
Ueity  would  have  less  to  do  ;  or  that  the 
instantaneous  summoning  of  the  raw  mate- 
rial of  the  universe  out  of  non-existence  was 
necessary  to  prove  his  omnipotence.  But 
with  eternal  matter  and  eternal  life,  the 
superintendence  of  the  universe,  and  the 
building  up  of  the  organized  forms  which 
have  successively  appeared,  would  require 
the  pervading  presence  of  an  Opifcx  niiDidi, 
no  less  than  if  the  matter  itself  had  been 
created  by  him.  If  matter  be  not  eternal, 
its  first  emergence  into  being  is  a  miracle, 
beside  which  all  others  dwindle  into  abso- 
lute insignificance.  But,  as  has  often  been 
pointed  out,  the  very  process  is  unthink- 
able ;  the  sudden  apocalypse  of  a  material 
world  out  of  blank  nonentity  cannot  be 
imagined  ;  its  emergence  into  order  out  of 
chaos,  when  "  without  form,  and  void  "  of 
life,  is  merely  a  poetic  rendering  of  the 
doctrine  of  its  slow  evolution. 

Theism  has  nothing  to  fear,  but  much  to 
gain,  from  a  scientific  doctrine  of  evolu- 
tion. Behind  the  proof  of  the  gradual  de- 
velopment of  life  lies  the  question  of  its 


T44  ESSAVS   IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

origin  and  its  Evolver  ;  and  so  long  as 
evolution  cannot  give  a  material  answer  to 
the  question,  zvhcncc  came  the  force  that 
gave  to  matter  its  first  impulse  towards 
the  development  of  organic  life,  it  is 
powerless  to  suggest,  far  less  to  establish, 
any  atheistic  doctrine.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  evolution  of  organic  life  is  the  grand- 
est conceivable  illustration  of  the  working 
of  divine  agency  not  detached  from,  but 
inseparably  upbound  with,  the  life  of  the 
universe.  Those  who  explain  the  present 
cosmical  order,  and  all  the  varieties  of  ex- 
isting organization  by  development,  virtu- 
ally see  in  it  the  disclosure  or  "revelation" 
of  several  divine  attributes,  while  they  af- 
firm that  their 

faith  is  large  in  time, 
And  tliat  whicli  shapes  it  to  a  perfect  end. 

Thus,  the  truth  of  the  principle  of  evolu- 
tion —  not  as  explanatory  of  the  origin, 
but  of  the  procession  and  development  of 
material  forms  —  may  be  conceded,  with- 
out peril  to  any  verifiable  truth  of  theol- 
ogy- 
Is  it  equally  relevant  as  an  explanation 
of  the  phenomena  of  character,  and  the 
mysteries    of    our    intellectual   and    moral 


ETHICAL  riiiLosoriiY.  145 

beins^  ?  Can  wc  account  for  all  the  varie- 
ties in  the  practice  of  the  race,  as  the 
progressive  development  of  tendencies 
originally  very  different,  but  which  have 
undergone  modification  and  change  during 
thousands  of  generations,  and  in  the  course 
of  millions  upon  millions  of  experiments? 
Or  do  we  meet  with  phenomena  within  the 
moral  sphere,  which  are  inexplicable  by 
such  an  extension  of  the  theory  of  evolution, 
-phenomena  which  are  better  explained 
by  another  hypothesis,  and  which  are  ir- 
reducible under  the  all-embracing  unity  of 
the  former  ?     This  is  our  inquiry  now. 

In  the  first  place,  the  fact  that  the  intel- 
lectual and  moral  consciousness  of  the  race 
has  grown  or  been  developed  from  lower 
and  even  dissimilar  states  must  be  as 
frankly  conceded,  as  the  rise  and  develop- 
ment of  material  organization  is  conceded. 
The  facts  which  prove  and  illustrate  this 
process  of  growth  form  a  most  interesting 
chapter  in  the  history  of  human  progress. 
They  arc  indeed  a  summary  of  civilization 
itself.  But  our  inquiry  lies  behind  such  an 
induction  of  historical  facts  and  instances, 
however  complete  and  satisfactory  it  might 
be  made. 


146  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

In  the  second  place,  we  have  to  examine 
the  nature  of  the  process  of  evolution  more 
carefully.  Suppose  that  the  present  ver- 
dicts of  the  moral  consciousness  have  been 
evolved  out  of  lower  ones,  may  not  the 
process  be  more  accurately  described  as 
one  of  emergence,  than  as  one  of  creation 
by  development?  May  not  the  "increas- 
ing purpose"  of  human  history  be  an  in- 
creasingly accurate  interpretation  or  read- 
ing of  the  reality  of  things  ?  In  a  process 
of  evolution  all  the  stages  are  of  equal 
value  and  significance.  The  very  terms 
"high  "  and  "low,"  "advanced"  and  "im- 
mature," have  no  significance,  except  one 
that  is  relative  to  the  insight  of  the  individ- 
ual who  uses  them.  A  standard  of  intrinsic 
worth  there  is  none.  Hence  it  is  that  an 
experiential  theory  of  the  origin  of  know- 
ledge and  of  morals  fits  into  a  doctrine  of 
evolution  ;  and  conversely,  the  psycholog- 
ical facts  that  suggest  a  non-experiential 
theory  of  knowledge  and  of  morals  are 
amongst  the  most  formidable  difficulties  in 
the  way  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution.  It  is 
true  that  a  perception  of  the  a  priori  or 
non-experiential  character  of  knowledge,  in 
any  of  its  forms,  — as  it  dawns  gradually  on 


ETlIICAr.    PIirLOSOrHY.  147 

the  mind  of  the  cliild,  — arises  out  of  a  lower 
state  of  confused  subjective  groping.  But 
the  lower  state  does  not  generate  the  higher. 
With  the  unconscious  awakening  of  intelli- 
gence there  is  a  more  accurate  apprehen- 
sion of  the  facts  of  existence,  and  a  pro- 
gressive approach  is  made  to  a  knowledge 
of  the  essence  and  reality  of  things.  It  is 
altogether  unwarrantable,  however,  to  af- 
firm that,  if  we  go  back  to  the  beginning  of 
things,  we  may  assume  that  all  that  now  is 
human  lay  potentially,  if  not  in  embryo, 
within  the  primitive  ascidian  ;  that  there 
was  a  time  when  intelligence  and  morality 
were  not,  and  that  these  are  "  things  of 
yesterday  "  within  the  slow  evolving  uni- 
verse. That  the  lower  contained  the  higher 
within  it  is  a  gratuitous  assumption.  It 
would  be  more  consistent  to  say  that  the 
higher  did  not  e.xist  at  all,  until  it  came 
upon  the  stage  of  being.  This  would  in- 
volve the  assumption  of  a  new  creation  — 
the  very  assumption  from  which  evolution 
seeks  to  free  us.  It  is  surely  more  philo- 
sophical, to  suppose  that  when  a  new  or- 
ganism appears,  its  differentia  is  not  due 
to  anything  that  was  latent  in  its  progen- 
itor,  but  to    a    fresh    development    of    the 


148  ESSAYS  IN  rnrLOSOPHY. 

prolific  life  of  the  universe,  issuing  orderly 
and  incessantly  from  the  fountain-head  of 
existence,  and  taking  shape  moment  by 
moment  in  new  forms  of  organization. 

There  is  a  further  obstacle  in  the  way 
of  our  admitting  the  unrestricted  sway  of 
evolution  within  the  sphere  of  intellectual 
life  and  moral  agency.  If  it  is  difificult  to 
see  how  the  knowledge  of  a  priori  truths 
can  be  derived  from  mere  sensation,  it  is 
still  more  dif^cult  to  see  how  moral  free- 
dom can  be  developed  out  of  necessity. 

I  do  not  now  enter  on  the  great  contro- 
versy as  to  the  nature  of  free-will.  The 
question  of  the  ages  is  not  to  be  discussed 
in  a  paragraph.  But  this  much  may  be 
said :  if  we  have  evidence  to  warrant  the 
belief  in  moral  autonomy,  —  in  such  a  free- 
dom as  constitutes  the  individual  a  morally 
creative  cause,  while  the  causal  nexus  is 
maintained  in  its  integrity,  —  it  is  clear 
that  this  freedom  cannot  be  itself  "the 
creature  of  circumstances."  Evolution  and 
necessitarianism  go  hand  in  hand.  They 
are  different  ways  of  expressing  the  same 
thing.  If  human  nature  is  wholly  evolved, 
man  is  at  best  a  cunningly  devised  machine, 
an  automaton.     He   is  what   he  is,  exclu- 


KTIUCAL    I'HILOSOI'HY.  149 

sively  because  of  what  other  things  have 
been,  and  because  of  what  they  have  made 
him.  It  is  unnecessary  to  indicate  the 
nature  of  the  evidence  we  have  for  a  tran- 
scendental freedom.  lUit  it  is  clear  that 
if  evolution  contains  the  whole  truth  on 
this  subject,  if  there  is  no  complementary 
or  balancing  truth  on  the  other  side,  moral 
freedom  must  be  renounced.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  moral  freedom  be  a  fact,  it  is  a 
singularly  stubborn  one,  which  will  neither 
bend  nor  fit  into  a  sectarian  theory  of  evo- 
lution. 

If  necessity  and  automatism  be  true,  and 
if  the  evolving  stream  of  tendency  be  com- 
petent of  itself  to  perform  the  feat  of  edu- 
cing all  the  moral  life  of  the  universe  out 
of  elements  that  are  originally  non-moral, 
the  evidence  should  be  accessible  to  the 
unbiased  student  of  the  problem.  Why 
should  we  distrust  our  moral  intuitions, 
and  accept  the  materialist  solution  of  our 
genealogy,  unless  the  evidence  be  over- 
whelmingly clear,  and  cogent  .-'  It  does 
not  appeal  to  us  with  any  evidence  clarc  ct 
distiiictc,  as  Descartes  would  have  it.  On 
the  contrary  there  is  an  a  priori  presump- 
tion against  it,  in  the  explicit  testimony  of 


I  50  ESSAYS   IN  FHILOSOFIIY 

consciousness  to  the  power  of  moral  orig- 
ination. Why  am  I  to  believe  that  a  mate- 
rial condition  of  the  molecules  of  the  brain 
is  the  cause  of  a  state  of  consciousness,  and 
not  to  believe  that  a  state  of  consciousness 
can  ever  be  an  originating  cause  of  change 
in  the  molecules  of  the  brain  ?  There  is 
action  and  reaction  between  the  material 
and  the  mental.  But  it  is  not  an  equally 
necessitated  action  and  reaction.  It  is  not 
reciprocal,  in  the  sense  that  both  are  solely 
determined  by  their  antecedents.  The  spe- 
ciality of  the  action  of  the  human  will  and 
consciousness  lies  in  their  spontaneity  and 
freedom. 

The  growth  of  ethical  sentiment  and 
dogma  out  of  prehistoric  elements,  during 
the  innumerable  eras  of  past  existence, 
must  be  admitted  to  be  as  certain  as  is  the 
progress  of  each  individual  from  the  blank 
consciousness  of  childhood  to  the  adult 
state  ;  and  the  authority  of  the  developed 
product  is  not  invalidated  by  its  history 
being  traced,  and  the  entire  series  of  the 
steps  of  its  development  disclosed.  That 
human  character  should  grow,  as  well  as 
the  physical  organism  to  which  it  is  re-  ^ 
lated,  is  merely  a  corollary  of  its  existence. 


ETHICAL    riJILOSOl'JIY.  151 

'I'hat  it  should  have  come  to  be  what  it  is 
by  a  process  of  dcveloptncnt  is  not  only  no 
dispara<^cment  to  it,  but  is  absolutely  es- 
sential to  its  existence  in  any  form  what- 
ever. Change  and  development  are  twin 
sisters. 

I"\)r  the  same  reason,  it  is  self-evident 
that  what  is  now  adult  in  the  race,  having 
once  been  rudimentary,  the  language  of  its 
maturity  must  be  totally  unlike  the  lispings 
of  its  infancy.  This  fact,  however,  and 
e\en  the  discovery  of  the  precise  law  or 
process  of  its  development,  does  not  fully 
explain  the  progress,  because  it  casts  no 
light  on  the  nature  of  the  Cause  that  has 
determined  the  advance,  or  the  propelling 
force  that  has  regulated  the  evolution. 
After  all  our  scientific  and  historical  facts 
are  ascertained,  the  philosophical  question 
remains,  Whence,  or  out  of  what  prior 
elements,  have  the  moral  faculty  and  the 
moral  feelings  been  developed  ?  Some  of 
those  who  find  in  evolution  an  adequate 
explanation  of  all  the  problems  of  philoso- 
phy seem  to  imagine  that  by  simply  alifirm- 
ing  the  groivtli  of  ethical  sentiment  and 
idea,  they  have  solved  the  puzzle  of  their 
origin.      Let   the   fact   of  development  be 


152  /^SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

granted,  —  not  as  an  argumentative  con- 
cession, but  as  an  elementary  and  almost 
self-evident  postulate,  —  the  question  still 
remains,  Did  the  immature  give  rise  to  the 
more  mature,  or  merely  go  before  it  ?  Did 
the  inferior  originate  the  superior,  or  sim- 
ply precede  it  in  time  ? 

That  the  higher  succeeded  the  lower  is 
evident  ;  but  it  does  not  follow  that  it 
sprang  out  of  it,  in  such  a  way  that  all  the 
actual  and  potential  elements  of  its  life  may 
be  said  to  have  been  latent  or  contained 
within  the  lower.  The  phenomena  of  sim- 
ple succession  do  not  explain  a  single  oc- 
currence ;  and  the  fact  that  a  progress  is 
seen  from  inferior  forms  to  superior  types 
in  Nature  does  not  explain  the  cause  of 
the  rise,  or  assign  a  reason  for  the  advance. 
That  the  cause  is  contained  within  the 
phenomena  themselves,  and  is  not  due  to  a 
force,  distinct  from  the  phenomena  though 
inseparable  from  them,  and  pervading  the 
entire  series  —  is  a  dogmatic  appendix, 
which  the  experience-philosophy  superadds 
to  the  facts  which  it  experientially  investi- 
gates. 

Merely  to  affirm  that  the  moral  faculty 
has  grown  unconsciously  in  the  race,  as  it 


ETHIC  A  I.    I'llII.USOI'HY.  133 

grows  in  the  conscious  life  ot  each  man,  is 
not  to  make  a  great  discovery  in  morals, 
but  to  state  a  commonplace  which  every 
ethical  school  admits  ;  although  the  intui- 
tional moralists  may  not  ha\e  perceived  its 
extent  so  clearly,  or  admitted  its  signifi- 
cance so  fully,  as  their  rivals  have  done. 
'I'o  affirm  that  because  it  is  developed  it 
is  also  derived  from  the  elements  that 
foster  its  development  is  the  illicit  infer- 
ence which  the  derivative  moralists  either 
add  to,  or  confound  with,  the  admitted 
fact. 

Because  the  consciousness  of  the  child 
is  a  seeming  blank,  his  mind  —  to  use  the 
old  illustration  —  like  a  sheet  of  white 
paper  on  which  impressions  are  gradually 
imprinted  from  without,  was  the  ground 
on  which  the  experiential  philosophers  of 
the  past  denied  that  there  were  any  latent 
elements  within  it  or  behind,  which  expe- 
rience did  not  create,  but  only  evolved,  or 
brought  to  light.  Within  the  present  gen- 
eration the  controversy  has  merely  widened 
out,  from  the  individual  to  the  race.  The 
genesis  of  all  the  faculties  is  now  sought 
through  a  w'ider  investigation  of  prehistoric 
conditions,  and  the  subsequent  struggle  for 


154  £SSA  VS   /.V  FHILOSOPIIY. 

existence.  But  it  is  only  the  area  whence 
the  inference  is  deduced  that  has  been 
changed.  The  process  of  deduction  re- 
mains the  same.  If  there  was  anything  to 
warrant  the  old  contention  that  what  is  de- 
veloped in  the  individual  is  not  the  simple 
product  of  experience, — the  mind  of  the 
infant  being  more  like  a  palimpsest  than  an 
unwritten  parchment,  —  precisely  the  same 
contention  is  valid  now,  in  reference  to  the 
larger  and  slower  evolution  of  the  histori- 
cal consciousness  of  the  race.  The  con- 
troversy of  to-day  is  really  the  old  contro- 
versy between  Socrates  and  Protagoras, 
between  Plato  and  Aristotle,  between  Leib- 
nitz and  Locke,  between  Kant  and  Hume, 
"writ  larger,"  —  through  the  amazing  de- 
velopment of  physical  science,  biological 
research,  and  the  prehistoric  archaeology 
of  our  time.  That  the  ingenious  theories 
of  the  teachers  of  evolution  have  filled 
up  for  us  the  possible  outlines  of  a  most 
interesting  chapter  in  prehistoric  archae- 
ology is  undoubted.  The  psychological 
facts  which  Darwin  has  signalized  are  im- 
portant factors  in  the  ethical  development 
of  the  race ;  but  he  has  not  solved  the 
ethical  problem,  and  no  amount  of  success- 


ETHICAL    I'HILOSOI'IIV.  155 

fill   labor,  alon^  the  lines  in  which   he  and 
his  successors  have  worked,  will  solve  it. 

I  admit  that,  were  it  proved  that  the 
moral  faculty  was  derived  as  well  as  devel- 
oped, its  present  decisions  would  not  nec- 
essarily be  invalidated.  The  child  of  ex- 
perience has  a  father  whose  teachings  are 
grave  and  perem{)tory.  An  earth-born 
rule  may  be  as  stringent,  though  it  is  not 
so  august,  as  one  derived  from  a  celestial 
source.  It  does  not  even  follow  that  a  be- 
lief in  the  material  origin  of  spiritual  exist- 
ence —  accomp'anied  by  a  corresponding 
decay  of  belief  in  immortality  —  must  nec- 
essarily lead  to  a  relaxation  of  the  moral 
fibre  of  the  race.  It  is  certain  that  it  has 
often  done  so  ;  but  it  is  equally  certain  that 
there  have  been  individuals,  and  great  his- 
torical communities,  in  which  the  absence 
of  the  latter  belief  has  neither  weakened 
moral  earnestness,  nor  prevented  devo- 
tional fervor.  It  is  clear,  therefore,  that 
we  should  no  more  discredit  what  has 
come  to  be  what  it  is  by  a  process  of  de- 
velopment than  we  should  distrust  the  ver- 
dicts of  the  moral  faculty,  because  future 
experience  may  on  many  points  enlarge  or 
widen  them.      It  may  even  be  said  that  the 


156  ESSAYS  LV  PIJILOSOriiY. 

derivation  of  a  faculty  out  of  elements  orig- 
inally unlike  itself,  bringing  with  it  the  au- 
thority of  accumulated  experience,  indicates 
the  working  of  a  great  cosmic  law  which 
gathers  force  from  the  width  of  the  area  it 
sweeps,  and  the  time  it  has  taken  to  evolve 
its  products.  It  comes  to  us  now  with  the 
prestige  of  a  remote  antiquity,  it  can  ap- 
peal to  the  precedent  of  a  million  genera- 
tions ;  and,  since  it  has  alone  survived  in 
the  struggle  for  existence,  it  is  fortified  in 
its  appeal  by  the  failure  of  every  rival  that 
has  for  a  time  competed  with  it,  but  been 
gradually  thrust  aside. 

If  this  be  conceded,  we  must  note  with 
accuracy  what  it  is  we  have  reached  and 
found.  We  observe  a  continued  advance  in 
the  ethical  conceptions  of  the  race  ;  but  we 
discover  no  fixed  standard  of  action,  no 
immutable  canon,  and  hence  no  absolute 
criterion  of  morality.  Since  the  human  race 
is  still  changing  and  developing,  fresh  al- 
terations will  be  produced,  by  the  "increas- 
ing purpose"  of  time,  in  the  moral  concep- 
tions and  feelings  of  the  race,  as  certainly 
and  inevitably  as  changes  on  the  earth's 
surface  will  be  produced  by  physical  agents. 
If  we  have  no  principle  other  than  evolu- 


ETHICAL  PHiLosorny.  157 

tion  to  guide  us,  nothing  underneatii  the 
linear  series  of  changes  which  \vc  call  de- 
velopment, which  gives  to  these  their  char- 
acter and  explanation,  we  are  able  to  call 
one  thing  "  good,"  and  another  "  evil,"  only 
because  the  forces  that  sway  society  have 
happened  to  develop  in  one  direction,  and 
not  in  another.  I  do  not  say  that  they 
might  have  as  easily  tended  in  a  direction 
different  from  the  one  they  have  taken. 
The  fact  that  opily  one  has  been  taken, 
after  the  myriad  struggles  of  the  race,  may 
be  held  as  proof  that,  to  a  human  nature 
such  as  ours,  one  only  was  possible.  But, 
on  the  theory  of  evolution,  the  goal  is  not 
yet  reached.  There  not  only  may  but  there 
must  be  endless  future  development.  We 
have  not  attained  to  anything  higher  than 
a  temporary  and  therefore  a  conventional 
rule  of  expedient  action.  An  absolute 
standard  is  impossible.  Since  our  human- 
ity itself  is  in  a  perpetual  process  of  "be- 
coming," its  rule  of  action  always  "  about 
to  be,"  never  absolutely  "is."  It  is  essen- 
tially relative,  necessarily  contingent,  inces- 
santly changing.  What  is  valid  for  the 
human  race  to-day  uuiy  cease  to  be  valid 
to-morrow,  and  luust  cease  to  be  \'alid  in  the 


158  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

long  run.  It  will  become  obsolete  through 
the  slow  procession  of  the  ages,  and  the 
stealthily  superannuating  hand  of  time. 
Can  a  rule  which  thus  disintegrates  and 
dies  away  command  the  reverential  suffrage 
of  the  race,  even  while  it  lasts  '^.  Its  per- 
manence in  any  one  form  being  momentary 
—  its  deepest  characteristic  being  its  in- 
cessant change — it  may  be  questioned  if 
we  can  ever  really  know  what  we  are  asked 
to  reverence. 

All  "becoming"  tends  to  "being"  as  its 
end,  or  it  is  meaningless  ;  and  we  can  only 
explain  "becoming"  by  presupposing  "be- 
ing." If,  therefore,  what  we  have  to  explain 
is  always  about  to  be,  but  never  actually 
is,  —  if  it  is  all  process  and  no  product,  or 
if  the  product  is  simply  process  prolonged 
forever,  —  there  is  no  intelligible  meaning 
in  the  process  itself.  Its  very  rationality 
disappears.  In  other  words,  some  know- 
ledge of  the  end  is  necessary  to  give  ration- 
ality to  the  means.  It  is  the  goal  that 
makes  the  race  intelligible,  the  port  to 
which  the  vessel  is  bound  that  explains 
the  voyage.  In  any  case,  we  must  have  a 
starting-point  and  an  ending  place  ;  two 
termini,  to  mark  out  the  course  and  differ- 


ETHICAL   riULOSOrilY.  159 

entiate  it,  else  the  intermediate  stages  arc 
unintelligible.  But,  while  we  cannot  get 
within  sight  of  these  termini  by  the  in- 
ductions of  experience,  —  whether  by  an 
imaginative  regress  to  the  fountain-head  of 
history,  or  by  a  surmise  of  its  destination, 
—  we  find  them  disclosed  and  explained  at 
every  stage  of  the  intermediate  journey,  in 
the  consciousness  of  a  law  that  is  auto- 
cratic, universal,  and  ideal. 

Not  that  we  can  discern  the  beginnings 
of  morality,  or  anticipate  the  development 
to  which  it  may  attain.  Even  were  such 
surmises  or  forecasts  possible,  they  would 
be  of  no  use  as  data  towards  the  solution 
of  the  problem,  inasmuch  as  they  would  be 
either  gathered  historically  from  the  field 
of  experience,  or  inductively  inferred  by 
the  aid  of  analogy.  What  we  reach,  how- 
ever, transcends  experience,  without  being 
independent  of  it  ;  nay,  by  the  very  help 
and  teaching  of  experience,  we  outsoar  it. 

The  chief  point  to  be  noted,  in  connec- 
tion with  a  derivative  theory  of  morals,  is 
the  position  in  which  it  all  leaves  us  in 
the  exercise  of  moral  approbation  and  dis- 
approbation. On  the  principle  of  evolu- 
tion, all  the  phases  through  which  ethical 


l6o  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

opinion  and  sentiment  have  passed  were  of 
equal  validity  for  the  particular  stage  which 
human  nature  had  reached  ;  and,  though 
we  may  contrast,  we  may  not  judge  these 
phases  by  the  standards  or  canons  of  to- 
day. The  fierce  struggles  of  the  early 
stage,  instead  of  being  condemned,  are  to 
be  regarded  as  the  necessary  steps  of  an 
"  eternal  process  moving  on  "  by  which 
adult  opinion  and  sentiment  have  been 
reached  ;  just  as  the  unlimited  strife 
amongst  the  lower  organisms  in  Nature 
has  resulted  in  an  elevation  of  the  type, 
and  in  the  survival  of  the  iittest  to  live. 

The  advocates  of  empiricism  and  evolu- 
tion, who  have  recently  entered  the  lists 
as  champions  of  their  own  position  against 
the  intuitional  moralists,  consistently  af- 
firm that  there  is  no  absolute  standard 
of  right  and  wrong:  that  it  is  the  verdict 
of  society  —  based  on  the  unconscious  per- 
ceptions of  utility  transmitted  through  a 
thousand  generations  —  that  makes  a  thing 
cither  right  or  wrong.  Things  are  not  to 
be  done  by  us,  because  they  are  intrinsi- 
cally right ;  they  are  right,  because  we  do 
them  ;  that  is  to  say,  because  tJie  race,  not 
the  individual  (who  may  be  capricious),  has 


EliJlCAL    J'llILOSOrHY.  \C,\ 

agreed,  through  the  consenting  experience 
of  centuries,  to  do  them.  Intuitional  mor- 
alists, on  the  contrary,  maintain  that  certain 
things  are  to  be  done,  and  others  to  be  ab- 
stained from,  in  virtue  of  an  intrinsic  right- 
ness  or  wrongness  attaching  to  the  acts 
themselves  ;  and  that  the  assent  of  the 
race  to  a  common  rule  (with  manifold  and 
inevitable  exceptions,  which  both  prove  and 
illustrate  it)  is  due,  either  to  its  progressive 
discernment  of  that  intrinsic  rightness,  or 
to  the  unconscious  sway  of  a  principle  of 
right  reason  which  '*  worketh  out  of  view," 
and  which,  though  evolved  by  experience,  is 
not  its  child. 

Intuitional  moralists  affirm  that  the 
authority  of  the  moral  consciousness  is 
weakened  and  degraded  on  every  theory  of 
evolution,  which  is  a/so  a  theory  of  deriva- 
tiou.  If  the  progressive  experience  of  the 
race,  refined,  disciplined,  and  consolidated 
through  many  generations,  has  given  rise 
to  the  moral  faculty,  the  authority  of  that 
which  has  been  thus  derived  is  essentially 
affected  by  the  disclosure  of  its  genealogy. 
It  is  idle  to  allege  that  the  discovery  of  its 
origin  in  mere  sensation  is  not  (as  has  been 
said)  "to  degrade  the  progeny,  but  to  enno- 


1 62  JiSSAiS   IN  FJJJLOSOPHV. 

ble  the  ancestry  ;"  for  if  the  honor  of  hav- 
ing produced  a  thing  so  totally  unlike  itself 
is  conceded  to  sensation,  the  belief  in  its 
material  origin  may  lessen  the  sanctity  of 
virtue,  while  it  suggests  its  commonplace- 
ness.  It  may  also  chill  the  ardor  with 
which  virtue  is  pursued. 

It  is  quite  true  that  man  may  reverence 
that  which  he  supposes  to  have  sprung 
from  the  dust  of  the  ground,  as  much  as 
that  which  he  imagines  to  have  descended 
from  the  skies ;  but,  dispensing  with  both 
these  mctaphoric  modes  of  thought,  we 
cannot  reverence  anything  so  devoid  of 
character  and  coherence  as  a  mere  process 
of  becoming,  or  stream  of  tendency,  an 
endless  genealogy  without  an  original,  a 
series  of  phenomena  of  which  the  only  cer- 
tain thing  is  that  A  is  the  antecedent  of  B, 
B  of  C,  and  so  on  ad  ijifiiutuni.  Moreover, 
in  tracing  the  origin  of  the  moral  faculty 
by  the  light  of  evolution  alone  wc  cannot 
rest  at  mere  sensation.  W'e  must  go  much 
farther  back,  and  cannot  pause  consistently 
anywhere  ;  just  as,  in  our  anticipations  of 
change  in  the  future,  we  cannot  rest  at  any 
conceivable  goal,  but  must  believe  that  a 
chang-e  in  the  moral  consensus  of  the  race 


EiniCAL  nil i.oso I'll y.  163 

will  go  on,  till  somclhing  totally  unlike 
the  present  is  reached,  lioth  in  our  re- 
gress and  in  our  {progress,  i)henomena  will 
be  found  which  bear  no  resemblance  to  the 
I)resent,  but  which  nevertheless  are,  on  the 
one  hand,  the  elements  out  of  which  it  has 
come,  and  on  the  other  the  product  in 
which  it  must  disappear.  In  this  analysis 
of  the  moral  sense  we  must  go  as  far  back 
and  as  far  forward  as  we  can  ;  and  when 
the  torch  of  history  fails  us,  and  the  paler 
light  of  archaeology  fades  in  the  dimness 
of  jjrehistoric  surmise,  the  experience-phi- 
losophy tells  us  to  step  backwards  into  the 
darkness  as  trustfully  as  when  we  began 
our  explanation  of  the  facts  of  conscious- 
ness by  its  aid.  We  are  not  to  stop  at 
j)rimitive  man,  or  the  primitive  animal, 
but  go  back  to  the  primitive  protoplasm. 
The  origin  of  the  moral  faculty  must  be 
sought  be\'ond  the  twilight  of  sensation, 
in  the  blank  midnight  of  the  non-vital  and 
purely  physical  forces.  Conversely,  we 
must  suppose  it  not  onh'  possible  but  cer- 
tain that  in  the  millenniums  of  the  future 
a  wholly  different  product  will  be  e\"olvcd 
out  of  the  morals  of  our  nineteenth  cen- 
tury.    We    cannot    diaw   a  line,   and    say, 


164  /iSSAiS  /.V  rillLOSOPIlY. 

"  1.0 !  //rr^,  across  the  line,  the  moral 
faculty  is  formed,  is  mature  ;  whereas, 
tlicrc,  on  the  other  side  of  it,  it  was  un- 
formed and  immature."  It  is  alwa}'s 
forming,  maturing,  changing  ;  and  it  must 
undergo  transformations  into  products  as 
unlike  the  present,  as  these  arc  unlike  the 
contractile  sensations  of  the  ascidians  in 
primeval  seas.  All  things,  according  to 
the  theory,  are  in  per]:)etual  motion  ;  and 
the  Tro'Ac/xos  TTure/j  Trdi'TMv  of  Hcraclitus  is  as 
fully  applicable  to  the  paternity  of  the 
moral  faculty  as  it  is  to  the  origin  of  the 
physical  cosmos.  In  short,  the  universe 
tells  us  of  the  "ebb  and  flow,"  but  not  of 
the 

Ever-durinc;  Power, 
And  central  peace^  subsisting  at  the  heart 
Of  endless  agitation. 

In  opposition  to  the  derivative  theory  of 
morals,  the  appeal  of  the  intuitionalist  is 
still,  as  it  used  to  be  in  olden  controversy, 
to  the  facts  of  consciousness  ;  and,  in  the 
sphere  of  ethics,  to  the  Absolute  revealed 
in  and  disclosed  to  consciousness. 

.Students  of  the  same  problem,  however, 
all  appealing  to  consciousness,  give  us,  as 
the   result   of  that   appeal,  a  different  and 


ETHICAL  rjiiLosornv.  165 

opposite  verdict.  Like  the  rival  sects  with 
the  same  authoritative  standard,  the  schools 
of  Philosophy  all  turn  to  consciousness  for 
their  final  testimony.     And  so, 

This  is  tlie  book  where  each  his  dogma  seeks, 
And  this  the  booii  where  each  his  dogma  finds. 

Nevertheless,  we  cannot  dispense  with  the 
appeal.  Consciousness  is,  and  always  must 
be,  our  final  resort  in  every  controver.sy. 
As  we  have  no  infallible  arbiter,  —  and  if 
we  had  one,  his  decisions  would  require  the 
interpretation  of  consciousness,  —  all  de- 
bate must  end  in,  and  all  inquiry  ultimately 
repose  upon,  the  testimony  of  a  disciplined 
reason,  on  enlightened  consciousness.  This 
interior  light,  directing  without  dictating, 
—  and  not  the  inductions  of  sense-percep- 
tion, derived  from  objective  phenomena,  — 
is  our  only  valid  guide,  and  our  sole  arbiter 
in  disputed  problems. 

We  perceive 
Within  ourselves  a  measure  and  a  rule, 
Which  to  the  sun  of  truth  we  can  apply, 
That  shines  for  us.  and  shines  for  all  mankind. 

If  we  have  evidence  suf^cient  to  warrant 
the  conclusion  that  the  phenomena  of  the 
moral  consciousness  are  not  explicable  by 
evolution  in  the  lifetime  of  the  individual, 


1 66  L'SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

our  contention  is,  that  evolution  is  incom- 
petent to  explain  them,  suppose  you  extend 
it  to  a  million  generations.  If  we  cannot 
explain  the  origin  of  moral  judgment  by 
the  principle  of  association  in  any  single 
life,  how  should  association  be  competent 
to  explain  its  genesis  for  the  race  at  large  ? 
If  duty  does  not  arise  out  of  utility  by  the 
ascending  steps  of  gradation  in  a  single 
lifetime,  why  should  a  mere  lengthening  of 
the  period  enable  it  to  do  so  ?  In  the  very 
limited  field  open  to  experimental  research, 
we  have  no  instance  of  the  one  passing  into 
the  other,  or  giving  rise  to  it ;  and  we  can- 
not concede  that  mere  length  of  time  will 
make  amends  for  what  the  threescore  years 
and  ten  of  individual  life,  and  the  few  thou- 
sand years  of  verifiable  history,  have  failed 
to  start. 

If,  within  the  range  of  human  experience, 
we  saw  the  process  beginning —  if  we  could 
trace  the  rudimentary  signs  of  such  a  pro- 
cess at  work,  as  the  transformation  of  a 
sensation  into  a  moral  perception,  or  a  dis- 
cernment of  utility  into  a  conviction  of 
duty,  —  we  might  by  analogy  suppose  the 
process  indefinitely  extended,  its  area  en- 
larged, and  its  significance  enhanced.     But 


ETHICAL    I'HILOSOPIIV.  \()J 

the  experimental  fact,  which  should  be  the 
basis  of  the  argument,  is  wanting.  It  is 
alleged  that  we  have  frequent  instances  of 
the  love  and  pursuit  of  virtue,  as  a  means  to 
ha{)pincss,  passing  into  a  love  and  pursuit 
of  it  as  an  end,  and  for  its  own  sake.  But 
in  none  of  the  examples  cited  can  we  be 
sure  that  the  love  and  pursuit  belonged  to 
these  two  separate  categories  in  the  re- 
spective stages.  \Vc  do  not  know  that 
there  was  not  a  love  and  pursuit  of  it  for  its 
own  sake,  though  more  dimly,  at  the  first, 
and  more  explicitly  afterwards  ;  while  con- 
siderations of  utility  may  have  been  con- 
joined with  this  in  both  stages,  at  one  time 
prominently,  and  again  more  faintly. 

Many  efforts  have  been  made  to  trace 
the  parentage  of  conscience  to  elements 
unlike  itself.  Mr.  Maudsley  tries  to  find 
its  root  in  the  most  animal  of  all  our  in- 
stincts. More  recently  it  has  been  said 
that  the  conviction  of  an  inherent  right  to 
live  is  the  germ  out  of  which  it  has  been 
evolved  ;  a  conviction  which  takes  articu- 
late shape  in  the  proposition,  "  No  one  has 
a  right  to  kill  me,"  but  which  existed,  in  a 
rudimentary  form,  long  before  it  expressed 
itself  thus  definitely. 


1 68  ASSAYS  nv  PHILOSOPHY. 

If  the  conviction,  "  I  have  a  right  to  live, 
no  one  has  a  right  to  kill  me,"  be  the  germ 
out  of  which  conscience  has  grown,  we 
have  first  to  account  for  the  rise  of  that 
conviction  itself,  out  of  a  state  in  which  it 
was  the  normal  law  of  the  universe  for  the 
stronger  to  kill,  and  for  the  weaker  to  be 
killed.  The  whole  difficulty  is  slurred 
over,  if  our  explanation  starts  with  a  fully- 
formed  sense  of  personality,  and  the  devel- 
oped feeling  of  an  inherent  right  to  live. 
The  problem  to  be  solved  is  the  reversal  of 
the  primitive  rule  of  universal  war,  and  in- 
discriminate struggle,  when  the  only  right 
was  that  of  the  strongest,  and  when  no  iii- 
dividjial  could  have  any  right  to  live,  be- 
cause his  strength  was  simply  relative  to 
the  number  and  vigor  of  his  competitors. 
The  state  supposed  to  be  evolved  out  of 
this  is  a  state  in  which,  not  only  the 
stronger  members  of  the  race,  but  even  the 
weakest  individuals,  come  to  feel  that  they 
have  an  inJicrcnt  right  to  live.  But  can 
evolution,  which  is  a  mere  process  of  be- 
coming, explain  this?  Is  it  that,  when  the 
stronger  have  become  proficient  in  the  art 
of  pushing  their  weaker  comrades  aside  — 
when  they  have  vanquished  opposition  and 


KTil/CAI.    I'niLOSurilY.  Kg 

had  a  surfeit  of  slaughter  —  their  sense  of 
prowess  gives  rise  to  a  new  feeling  that 
they  have  done  well  ?  Do  they,  in  virtue 
of  their  success  in  killing,  win  for  them- 
selves a  right  to  survive  ?  Because  of  the 
number  of  their  victims,  do  they  purchase 
for  themselves  immunity  from  destruction  ? 
If  so,  —  and  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  other- 
wise it  could  be  a  case  of  evolution,  pure 
and  simple,  —  this  is  an  instance  of  a  j^rin- 
ciple  evolved  out  of  its  own  opposite  ! 
The  hiatus  between  the  stage  in  which  it 
was  natural  that  one  animal  should  kill  and 
that  others  should  be  killed,  and  the  stage 
in  which  this  became  ////natural, —  and  the 
conviction  sprang  up  that  each  had  a  right 
to  live  and  to  continue  in  life, —  is  one  that 
cannot  be  bridged  over  by  any  conceivable 
process  of  evolution,  unless  it  be  evolution 
by  antagonism.  The  one  was  a  state  in 
which  our  animal  ancestors  were  wholly 
destitute  of  a  sense  of  right,  and  could 
have  no  notion  of  a  claim  to  live. 

For  why  ?  because  the  good  old  rule 
Sufficed  them  —  the  simple  plan, 

That  they  should  take  who  have  the  power,* 
And  they  should  keep  who  can. 

The   other  is  a    state,  not    different    from 


lyO  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

this  in  degree,  but  diametrically  opposite 
to  it  in  kind,  —  a  state  in  which  each  indi- 
vidual discerns  the  worth  of  his  own  per- 
sonality, and  his  inherent  right  to  exist. 

If  the  chasm  between  these  two  stages 
is  unbridged  by  evolution,  does  it  fare 
any  better  with  the  next  step  in  the  pro- 
cess of  development  ?  Suppose  that  the 
persuasion,  "I  have  a  right  to  live,"  has 
been  gradually  manufactured  out  of  its 
own  opposite,  how  does  the  former  give 
rise  to  the  conviction  that  another  individ- 
2iai,  like  me,  has  an  equal  right  to  live,  and 
to  live  well  ?  The  prolonged  life  of  the  one 
was  at  first  secured  only  by  the  constant 
death  of  competitors,  in  the  struggle  for 
existence.  How  did  this  give  place  to  the 
conviction  that  the  others  —  who  might 
very  possibly  wish  to  kill  the  successful 
and  surviving  individual  —  had  an  equal 
right  to  live  .''  No  theory  of  evolution  can 
answer  this  question,  as  no  mere  process  of 
development  can  solve  the  problem  of  the 
genealogy  of  moral  ideas. 

Further,  we  have  experimental  proof, 
within  the  limits  of  our  conscious  life,  that 
the  Authority  to  which  we  bow  is  not  de- 
rived from  anything  lower  than  itself.       It 


ETHICAL    PHfLOSOPJIY.  171 

carries  the  sign  of  its  own  absoluteness 
and  non-contingency  in  the  autocratic  man- 
ner in  which  it  announces  itself.  In  the 
phenomena  of  conscience,  we  find  the  traces 
of  a  principle, 

Deep  seated  in  our  mystic  frame, 

not  evolved  out  of  the  lower  elements  of 
appetency  and  desire,  but  controlling  these, 
as  an  alter  ego,  "  in  us,  yet  not  of  us."  Ap- 
pearing at  first  simply  as  one  amongst  the 
other  phenomena  of  consciousness,  it  mys- 
teriously overshadows  them  ;  and  suggests, 
in  the  occasional  flashes  of  light  sent 
across  the  darker  background  of  moral  ex- 
perience, the  working  of  a  personality  be- 
hind our  own.  As  the  seed  quickens  in 
the  furrow  when  the  surrounding  elements 
cooperate  to  elicit  its  energy,  so  this  latent 
faculty,  awakening  from  its  slumber  dur- 
ing the  process  of  moral  education,  is  not 
the  simple  product  of  that  process.  The 
stimulus  it  receives  merely  liberates  an 
imprisoned  power.  Thus  liberated,  it  dis- 
cerns its  own  original,  not  by  retrospec- 
tive glances  along  the  narrow  lines  of  indi- 
vidual or  cosmological  development ;  but, 
bv  a  direct  intuition  of  the  reason,  it  gains 


1/2  ESSAYS  IN  PniLOSOFHY. 

Fresh  power  to  commune  with  the  invisible  world, 
And  hear  the  mighty  stream  of  tendency 
Uttering,  for  elevation  of  our  thought, 
A  clear  sonorous  voice,  inaudible 
To  the  vast  multitude. 


ECLECTICISM. 

I  PKOPosi-:  to  discuss  some  of  the  fea- 
tures of  Ii^clccticism,  a  philosophy  which  has 
received  but  scant  justice  from  its  critical 
successors. 

It  is  both  a  system,  and  a  tendency  ;  a 
formal  philosophical  doctrine,  and  a  spirit 
of  philosophizing.  At  present  it  is  not 
necessary  to  consider  it  historically,  cither 
in  its  strength  or  its  weakness,  as  it  ap- 
peared in  the  third  century  at  Alexandria 
and  Rome,  at  Athens  in  the  fourth  and 
fiith,  or  at  Paris  in  the  nineteenth  ;  nor  to 
deal  with  its  secondary  developments  in 
social  organizations,  artistic  schools,  or  re- 
ligious systems.  It  is  more  important  to 
ascertain  its  general  speculative  drift,  its 
leading  features,  and  permanent  tendency. 
These  may  be  seen,  not  only  from  the 
phases  which  it  has  assumed  when  formed 
into  a  coherent  doctrine,  but  even  more 
characteristically  from  its  unconscious  pres- 
ence within  the  lines  and  under  the  limits 


174  JtSSAVS  IN  FHILOSOFhY. 

of  the  systems  which  have  ignored  it. 
W'herever  the  effort  to  reconcile  the  claims 
of  rival  doctrines  has  taken  the  place  of  a 
one-sided  advocacy  of  special  views,  the  re- 
sult, to  the  extent  of  the  reconciliation,  has 
been  eclectic. 

The  term,  however,  is  unfortunately 
misleading,  as  it  seems  to  indicate  the 
really  elementary  process  of  gathering  to- 
gether bits  of  systems,  and  arranging 
them  in  what  must  be  at  the  best  an  arti- 
ficial patchwork.  No  wonder  that  the  re- 
sult of  a  mere  collection  of  vicmorabilia, 
however  carefully  made,  should  be  a  pro- 
duct without  unity,  coherence,  or  vitality. 
A  system  that  resolved  itself  into  a  "  golden 
treasury  "  of  elegant  extracts  would  deserve 
the  neglect  of  all  competent  logicians,  and 
of  every  serious  thinker.^  And  this  is  the 
ungenerous  and  inaccurate  charge  to  which 
Eclecticism — the    system    suffering    from 

1  Oil  the  same  day  on  which  this  lecture  was  de- 
livered, Dr.  Martiiieau,  in  a  profound  and  noble  utter- 
ance from  the  Principal's  Chair  in  Manchester  New 
College,  spoke  of  '"an  eclectic  conimonpiace  book  of 
favorite  beliefs  "  as  "  the  last  resort  of  superannuated 
philosophv."'  This  remark  will  be  appreciated  perhajis 
most  of  all  by  those  who  carefully  distinguish  between 
"the  commonplace  book '' and  the  system  and  spirit  nf 
Eclecticism. 


I-.CLKCTICISM.  175 

its  defective  title  —  is  sometimes  exposed. 
It  is  difficult,  however,  to  find  a  better 
word  to  describe  it  than  this  confessedly 
inaccurate  and  misleading  one.  The  name 
of  no  system  of  philosophy  is  altogether 
adequate.  The  words  "  Idealist  "  and  "  Real- 
ist," "Ontologist"  and  "  Experientialist," 
although  convenient  as  indicating  certain 
philosophical  tendencies,  are  all  inappropri- 
ate in  some  of  their  applications,  and  cannot 
be  used  with  absolute  rigor.  The  terms 
"  Intuitionalism  "  and  "  Utilitarianism  "  are 
each  misleading.  The  inadequacy  of  the 
word  used  to  describe  it  is  thus  a  misfor- 
tune which  Eclecticism  shares  in  common 
with  every  other  system  of  opinion. 

Keeping  in  view,  therefore,  what  has 
already  been  said,  viz.,  that  its  essential 
features  exist  in  many  systems  which  dis- 
own it,  we  shall  find  that  the  propositions 
which  lie  at  the  basis  of  Eclecticism  are 
so  self-evident,  that  in  unfolding  them  we 
may  seem  to  be  stating  a  series  of  truisms. 
Out  of  their  simplicity,  however,  profound- 
ly important  issues  arise. 

Eclecticism  originates  in  the  elementary 
but  constantly  forgotten  fact  that  there  is 
always   truth  on   both  sides  of  every  great 


176  ESSjys  /.V  PHILOSOPHY. 

controversy  that  has  divided  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  of  mankind  ;  that  error  has 
its  origin  —  usually,  if  not  always  —  in  the 
abuse 'of  truth,  in  the  exaggeration  or  trav- 
esty of  fact ;  that  no  intellectual  doctrine 
is  absolutely  and  entirely  false,  or,  root 
and  branch,  a  delusion  ;  that  extravagance 
in  opinion  usually  proceeds  from  the  ea- 
gerness of  devotees  who  carry  true  princi- 
ples to  false  conclusions,  and,  in  their 
enthusiasm  for  a  particular  doctrine,  for- 
get its  obverse.  It  is  not  that  they  are 
wrong  in  the  emphasis  they  throw  on  any 
special  truth,  or  group  of  truths.  They 
are  only  wrong  in  ignoring  the  fact  that 
each  has  a  context  dissimilar  to  itself, 
though  complementary  and  equally  valid  ; 
and  especially  in  forgetting  that  all  major 
truths  are  arranged  in  pairs,  and  may  be 
placed  in  the  scales  over  against  others  of 
equal  weight  and  value  ;  so  that,  corre- 
sponding to  every  important  doctrine,  there 
is  always  one  equally  great  which  bal- 
ances it  on  the  opposite  side.  Wlien  it 
is  said  of  rival  systems  that  they  are  each 
"resistless  in  assault,  but  impotent  in  de- 
fense,"—  although  I  would  prefer  to  say, 
resistless  in   defense  while  impotent   in  as- 


ECLECTICISM.  177 

SLiult,  —  what  is  meant  is,  that  there  is  a 
citadel  of  strcngtii  (because  a  residuum  of 
truth)  at  the  heart  of  the  most  erroneous 
and  extravagant,  and  that  there  is  an  ele- 
ment of  weakness  (because  a  tendency  to 
bias  or  excess)  associated  with  the  truest 
that  a  progressive  civilization  has  evolved. 
Thus  the  principle  of  ]"xlecticism  contains 
a  very  obvious  theory  of  the  nature  of 
truth  and  of  error,  and  it  offers  an  expla- 
nation of  their  origin  respectively. 

Let  us  suppose  two  minds,  of  different 
tyi^e  or  idiosvncracy,  dealing  with  the  same 
problem,  —  be  it  the  origin  of  knowledge,  or 
the  conditions  of  responsibility,  a  doctrine 
of  the  beautiful,  or  a  theory  of  conduct, — 
their  hereditary  intellectual  tendencies 
vary,  their  temperaments  arc  not  the 
same,  and  their  education  has  been  differ- 
ent. They  therefore  approach  the  prob- 
lem from  opposite  sides.  Necessarily,  they 
survcv  it  in  a  different  manner  ;  and  their 
interpretation,  however  accurate,  must  be 
dissimilar.  One  will  throw  the  stress  on 
the  subjective  side  of  human  knowledge, 
the  other  on  the  objective.  The  former, 
starting  from  the  I'^go,  is  idealistic 
throughout  ;    the    latter,     beginning     with 


178  ESSAYS  IN  rniLOSO PHY. 

Nature,  is  materialistic  to  the  close.  The 
one  looks  at  man  as  a  determined  ele- 
ment in  the  material  cosmos,  and  his  ethical 
system  is  necessitarian;  the  other  regards 
him  as  a  free  autonomous  personality,  and 
his  system  is  libertarian.  These  different 
interpretations  of  the  same  problem,  both 
true  at  the  root,  generate  controversy. 
The  differences  increase  ;  and  schools  of 
opinion  arise,  in  which  the  opposite  con- 
clusions of  the  masters  are  intensified  by 
their  less  original  pupils.  The  chasm  be- 
tween them  gradually  widens  ;  and,  as  the 
conflict  grows,  the  partisans  of  each  sys- 
tem retire  to  its  strongholds,  till  the  truth 
which  each  most  loudly  asserts  is  denied 
by  its  antagonist.  The  doctrines  which 
were  at  the  first  accepted  on  both  sides 
(on  the  one  as  major,  and  on  the  other  as 
minor)  become  party  badges,  and  in  the 
end  there  is  a  fierce  and  sectarian  denial 
of  the  opposing  system.  In  intellectual 
and  speculative  theory,  it  is  as  in  matters 
personal,  social,  and  national.  A  minute 
divergence  between  two  persons  who  are 
perhaps  both  in  the  right  widens  into 
a  gigantic  misunderstanding,  or  a  slight 
diplomatic  difference  ripens  into  an  inter- 


ECLECTICISM  1 79 

national  quarrel.  And  if,  in  most  national 
quarrels,  both  nations  are  to  blame,  and 
in  the  majority  of  political  party-contests 
neither  side  has  a  monopoly  of  justice,  it  is 
precisely  so  in  the  strife  of  the  philosophi- 
cal sects,  in  the  controversies  between  ar- 
tistic schools,  and  the  warfare  of  religious 
parties. 

Now  suppose  that  the  controversy  be- 
tween two  philosophical  sects  has  been 
protracted  and  keen.  As  with  every 
other  fe)rm  of  strife,  the  antagonism  at 
length  dies  away,  and,  in  the  calmer  and 
juster  mood  which  succeeds,  a  desire 
springs  up  to  reconcile,  if  possible,  the 
opposite  claims.  A  retrospective  study 
of  the  controversy  shows  that  the  wdiolc 
truth  lay  with  neither  party,  that  each  had 
something  real  to  defend,  something  worth 
defending,  and  that  the  strife  between 
them  was  philosophically  illegitimate ;  al- 
though, had  there  been  no  collision,  the 
characteristic  merits  of  each  would  not 
have  been  so  prominently  signalized.  In 
the  case  of  diametrically  opposite  theories, 
which  negative  each  other,  the  excess  of 
both  is  neutralized  ;  and  while  each  may 
establish  the  truth  of  its  own   afifirmation, 


l80  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

its  negative  or  aggressive  tendency  is  held 
in  check  by  the  mere  presence  of  its  oppo- 
site. Thus  the  antagonism  of  the  schools 
preserves  the  philosophical  world  from  the 
intolerant  usurpation  of  any  one  of  them, 
and  brings  out  the  special  excellences  of 
each. 

A  state  of  perpetual  controversy  amongst 
the  sects,  however,  would  do  no  particular 
good,  if  it  did  not  lead  to  a  better  appre- 
ciation of  their  respective  merits  ;  and  we 
find  that  an  eclectic  or  reconciling  move- 
ment generally  follows,  and  is  produced 
by,  the  controversies  of  the  schools.  It  is 
gradually  seen  that  each,  if  "right  in  what 
it  affirmed,"  was  "  wrong  in  what  it  de- 
nied ;  "  right  in  so  far  as  it  was  positive, 
and  wrong  only  in  its  negation  of  the 
locris  standi  or  jus  vivcndi  of  the  S}'stems 
it  sought  to  annihilate.^ 

1  It  is  to  Leibnitz  that  we  owe  the  phrases  I  have 
quoted  in  the  text,  and  there  is  perhaps  no  n^me  in  the 
roll  of  modern  philosophy  whose  ap])reciation  of  the 
spirit  and  aim  of  Eclecticism  was  more  thorough  than 
his.  "  I  have  tried,"  he  says,  '"  to  disinter,  and  to  reunite 
the  truth,  buried  and  dissipated  under  the  opinions  of 
the  sects  of  the  philosophers."  (Trois  httres  a  .'/.  Rc- 
mo7id  dc  Montmort,  Opera,  ed.  Erdmann.  p.  701.)  "I 
have  found  that  most  of  the  sects  are  right  in  a  large 
part  of   what   they   atfirm,  but   not    in  what   they    deny. 


KCLECriCISM.  i8i 

The  human  mind  cannot  find  repose 
either  in  the  onesidedness  of  a  partisan 
system,  or  in  the  absolute  repression  of 
partisanship,  and  the  substitution  in  its 
plan  of  sucii  eclecticism  as  shrinks  from 
the  expression  of  difference.  The  eclecti- 
cism I  am  expounding  is  assuredly  not  one 
which  would  adjust  differences,  and  end 
controversy,  by  the  adoption  of  mild  and 

...  I  flatter  myself  that  I  have  penetrated  to  the  har- 
mony of  the  several  realms  of  philosophy  "  (he  is  speak- 
ing of  the  materialists  and  the  idealists),  "  and  have  seen 
that  both  parties  are  in  tin-  right,  if  only  they  would  not 
exclude  each  other"  [\>.']02).  Again  (letter  iii.  p.  704), 
"  Truth  is  often  wider  spread  than  one  thinks ;  but  it 
is  very  often  overlaid,  and  very  often  covered  up  ;  and 
weakened,  nmtilated,  and  corrupted  by  additions  which 
spoil  it,  or  render  it  less  useful.  In  getting  hold  of  the 
traces  of  Truth  amongst  the  Ancients,  or,  to  speak 
more  generally,  our  predecessors,  one  must  draw  gold 
out  of  mud,  the  diamond  from  the  mine,  and  light  from 
darkness.  Thus  would  we  reach  the  philosophia  pereti- 
?//.>■."  So  too  Cousin,  "There  is  no  absolutely  false  sys- 
tem, but  many  incomplete  ones,  systems  true  in  them- 
selves, but  erroneous  in  their  pretense  each  to  compre- 
hend within  itself  that  absolute  truth  which  is  only  to 
be  found  in  them  all.  The  incomplete,  and  therefore 
the  e.xclusive,  that  is  the  one  radical  vice  of  Philosophy, 
or  rather  of  the  philosophers,  because  philosophy  is  in 
all  the  systems.  Each  system  is  a  reflection  of  reality, 
but  unfortunately  it  reflects  it  only  under  a  single  angle." 
{Fragmens  Philosophiqiies,  i.  p.  242,  "  Du  Fait  de  Con- 
science.") 


I  82  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPUY. 

hazy  commonplaces,  which  no  sect  or 
school  could  possibly  deny.  It  conserves 
every  intellectual  difference  that  is  the 
outcome  of  distinctive  thought,  and  of  a 
true  interpretation  of  the  universe ;  only, 
it  makes  room,  alongside  of  each  interpre- 
tation, for  others  that  have  usually  been 
held  to  be  inconsistent  and  incompatible 
with  it. 

But,  as  it  is  in  the  union  of  one  or  two 
historical  facts,  with  sundry  psychological 
phenomena,  that  Eclecticism  may  be  said 
to  find  its  stronghold,  I  pass  to  the  con- 
sideration of  these. 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  the  histori- 
cal fact  of  the  incessant  rise  of  new  sys- 
tems, their  inevitable  decay,  and  their  per- 
petual reappearance.  Why  do  systems  of 
opinion  pass  away  from  the  thought  and 
the  allegiance  of  mankind,  but  from  the 
radical  imperfection  which  necessarily  char- 
acterizes them ;  from  their  adequacy  for 
a  time,  their  inadequacy  for  all  time } 
Why  do  they  reappear  again,  but  from  the 
root  of  truth  which  they  contain  }  The 
mere  fact  of  the  resurrection  of  old  and 
apparently  exploded  doctrines  is  a  historic 
proof  of   their   superiority   to    the  assault 


ECLECTICISM.  183 

that  seemed  to  lay  them  low.  It  shows 
that  the  conflict  of  opinion  —  however  in- 
teresting as  mental  gladiatorship,  and  how- 
ever valuable  as  a  means  of  developing 
knowledge,  and  sifting  truth  from  error  — 
is  a  conflict  which  in  the  end  leaves  no  one 
absolute  master  of  the  field.  If  the  con- 
troversy is  renewed,  if  the  strife  begins 
again,  it  is  because  the  forces  on  neither 
side  were  silenced,  and  because  each  is 
able  to  return  to  the  combat  with  unex- 
hausted courage  and  fresh  resource. 

The  ne.xt  fact  is  the  impossibility  (judg- 
ing by  analogy)  of  uniformity  of  belief, 
and  therefore  of  the  cessation  of  contro- 
versy ever  occurring  in  the  history  of  the 
world, — a  consummation  which  is  proba- 
bly no  more  possible,  and  no  more  desira- 
ble, than  the  cessation  of  physical  storms, 
and  the  substitution  of  perpetual  calm  and 
sunshine.  This,  —  the  necessity  of  fresh 
controversy,  —  though  generally  recognized 
as  a  feature  in  the  progress  of  civilization, 
has  perhaps  never  been  adequately  ap- 
praised, and  its  corollaries  have  certainly 
not  been  always  seen.  It  involves  the 
certainty  of  the  rise  of  new  types  of  phil- 
osoiihical    thought    and    belief,    while    the 


I  84  ESSAYS   IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

human  race  continues  to  advance.  "With 
every  new  cycle  will  come  a  new  phase  of 
insight,  and  a  new  attitude  of  feeling  to- 
wards the  universe.  Does  any  one,  except 
the  merest  tyro  in  historical  knowledge, 
or  the  most  youthful  champion  of  debate, 
expect  the  advent  of  a  time  when  specula- 
tive controversy  will  cease,  and  the  oppo- 
sition of  the  schools  disappear  .''  Such  a 
result  would  imply  either  a  radical  altera- 
tion in  the  structure  of  human  nature,  or 
the  extinction  of  belief  in  an  ideal,  and  the 
collapse  of  effort  to  reach  it.  It  would  be 
the  very  ciullcst  and  dreariest  world  in 
which  every  man  agreed  with  every  other 
man  upon  every  conceivable  topic.  It 
would  imply  the  decadence  of  the  intellect, 
the  withering  of  the  imagination,  and  the 
stoppage  of  the  pulse  of  the  human  heart. 
It  would  amount,  in  short,  to  an  arrest  laid 
on  the  mainsprings  of  civilization.  And 
where  are  we  to  draw  the  line  between  an 
agreement  on  every  possible  problem,  and 
a  general  concurrence  in  the  greater  prob- 
lems, as  finally  solved  for  the  human  race  } 
Is  not  the  distinction  only  one  of  degree  .' 
If  absolute  uniformity  of  opinion  is  impossi- 
ble, is  general  concurrence  less  Utopian  .' 


ECLECTICISM.  185 

But  %vliy  must  systems  of  opinion  run 
tlir()U<;h  their  cycles,  and  reai:)pear  ?  Why 
arc  the  intellectual  differences,  which  cul- 
minate in  opposinj^  doctrines,  destined  to 
remain  as  permanent  and  indelible  ten- 
dencies of  human  nature  ?  Are  there  any 
psychological  facts  which  explain  how 
they  have  hitherto  existed,  and  justify  the 
inference  that  they  will  continue  to  charac- 
terize the  future  evolution  of  humanity. 

One  explanation  is,  that  every  devel- 
oped opinion,  no  matter  how  contorted  and 
extravagant  it  may  be,  has  sprung  from 
some  real  root  in  the  soil  of  human  na- 
ture. It  has  been  evolved  ;  and  if  evolved, 
its  formative  principle  cannot  have  been 
mere  vagary,  hap-hazard,  or  blind  caprice. 
Grant  that  it  was  often  a  crude  guess,  a 
surmise,  a  thought  casually  thrown  out 
at  an  object,  that  gave  rise  to  primitive 
belief.  These  guesses  were  the  offspring 
of  previous  intelligence,  and  the  precur- 
sors of  genuine  knowledge.  The  surmises, 
which  grew  out  of  vague  unillumined  grop- 
ings,  were  disciplined  by  degrees  into  real 
insight,  definite  and  verifiable.  But  each 
separate  surmise,  of  necessity,  directed  to- 
wards a  particular  aspect  of  Nature  or  of 


1 86  ESSAYS  IN  FHILOSOFIIY. 

Life,  was  different  from  the  rest ;  and  the 
result  of  the  difference  is  seen  in  the  vari- 
ous "doctrines  of  knowledge"  and  "sys- 
tems of  the  universe,"  or  "  theories  of  ex- 
istence," which  now  divide  or  distract  the 
world.  The  source  of  the  difference  has 
been  chiefly  within  the  individual  theorist. 
It  has  been  due  to  temperament,  and  he- 
reditary tendency,  although  also,  in  a  minor 
degree,  to  the  education  and  surroundings 
of  the  system  builder. 

Given  a  certain  temperament,  ancestry, 
education,  and  influence,  it  is  quite  pos- 
sible to  predict  the  system  that  will  nat- 
urally emerge ;  to  say  whether  it  will  be 
intuitional  or  experiential,  idealist  or  real- 
ist, a  priori  or  a  posteriori.  Up  to  one  half 
of  the  result,  it  is  altogether  beyond  the 
individual's  control,  and  is  as  rigidly  de- 
termined for  him  as  is  the  color  of  his 
hair,  or  the  height  of  his  stature,  his  na- 
tionality, or  his  mode  of  speech.  Diver- 
sity will  therefore  necessarily  characterize 
all  future  systems  of  opinion  and  belief. 
This  diversity  will  be  due  to  the  immense 
variety  of  the  forces  that  sway  human 
nature,  which  is  a  fact  of  equal  magni- 
tude and  significance  with  its  underlying 


ECLECTICISM.  1 87 

unity,  —  a  variety  which  is  not  only  con- 
sistent with  the  unity,  but  which  illus- 
trates it,  and  goes  on  devcloi:)ing  alongside 
of  it.  It  may  thus  be  said  that  on  the  one 
hand  the  unity  of  human  nature,  and  on 
the  other  its  variety,  constitute  the  root 
and  ground  of  eclecticism.  If  the  race  is 
one  in  organic  structure,  in  mental  endow- 
ment, in  moral  tendency,  in  imaginative  ca- 
pacity, and  in  spiritual  possibility,  —  despite 
the  thousand  varieties  which  proclaim  our 
separateness  and  individuality,  —  the  out- 
come of  this  unity,  in  the  endless  systems 
we  construct  for  the  explanation  of  the 
abiding  mystery  of  the  universe,  must  in 
every  instance  possess  a  greater  or  less 
degree  of  truth.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
variety  which  marks  us  off  from  one 
another,  the  differences  which  separate  us 
—  despite  our  organic  unity  and  the  soli- 
darity of  the  race  —  must  of  necessity  give 
rise  to  fresh  forms  of  dogma  and  belief. 
Our  speculative  doctrines  being  sifted  and 
refined  by  controversy,  our  frames  of  theory 
will  correspond  more  and  more  adequately 
to  the  truth  of  things,  while  they  differ 
from  the  older  ones,  which  they  supersede. 
We   may  thus   e.xpect  a  simultaneous   de- 


1 88  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

velopment  and  deepening,  both  of  the  unity 
and  the  variety  of  human  nature,  its  diver- 
sity in  opinion,  feeling,  and  practice,  its 
unity  in  aspiration  and  aim. 

Here  I  may  put  a  question,  which,  how- 
ever simple,  deserves  consideration.  What 
is  the  meaning  of  the  belief  that  two  an- 
tagonist systems  can  be  reconciled,  and  of 
the  attempts  made  to  effect  the  reconcil- 
iation .''  —  for  example,  that  the  philosophy 
of  experience  can  be  reconciled  with  that 
of  intuition,  or  even  that  the  claims  of  Re- 
ligion and  Science  can  be  adjusted.''  that 
there  is  no  necessary  collision  in  the  nature 
of  things  between  the  two,  but  only  between 
sundry  mistaken  versions  or  interpreta- 
tions of  each  ?  If  the  experiential  and  the 
a  priori  systems  of  knowledge  can  be  har- 
monized, if  the  intuitional  and  the  deriva- 
tive theories  of  morals  can  be  reconciled, 
it  is  because  every  system  of  the  universe 
that  has  been  evolved  from  the  brain  of 
man  must  have  arisen  from  some  germ  of 
reality,  and  because  its  error  has  been 
simply  a  distortion  of  the  truth. 

Add  to  this,  that  every  published  sys- 
tem of  opinion  —  or  that  portion  of  it 
which  can  be  epitomized  and  exhibited  in 


ECLECTICISM.  1 89 

a  reasoned  treatise  —  is  only  a  small  por- 
tion of  it.  A  large  context  is  never  ex- 
hibited to  view  ;  and  just  as  a  man  may 
be  intellectually  refuted  without  being 
convinced,  because  what  has  been  refuted 
is  only  that  portion  of  his  opinions  which 
was  revealed  and  expressed  in  words,  —  the 
context,  lying  within  his  mind  undivulged, 
being  also  untouched  by  argument,  —  so 
the  vital  part  of  every  dogma  may  be  a 
subterranean  clement,  a  root  unconscious 
to  the  individual,  and  never  exposed  to 
view.  If  its  upper  growth  is  cut  down, 
like  those  perennial  plants  of  which  while 
the  stem  decays  the  root  survives,  it  will 
send  forth  flowers  next  season  freshly  as 
before. 

We  may  thus  see  how  action  and  reac- 
tion is  an  inevitable  and  abiding  feature  in 
human  opinion  and  belief  ;  how  the  truth 
and  the  error  of  "systems"  is  but  a  ques- 
tion of  degree  ;  how  their  vitality  is  due 
to  the  truth  they  contain,  and  their  lon- 
gevity to  the  amount  of  that  truth  ;  how 
immortality,  in  the  sense  of  abiding  con- 
tinuity, is  the  prerogative  of  none;  while 
resurrection  and  rehabilitation  may  be  the 
destiny  of  each.     It  is   impossible  for  an 


IQO  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

individual,  or  a  generation,  to  have  an 
equally  clear  grasp,  and  an  equally  firm 
hold,  of  the  opposite  and  balancing  sides 
of  any  truth  ;  and  the  prominence,  which 
the  individual  or  the  age  may  give  to  any 
special  view,  always  leads  by  reaction  to  a 
corresponding  predominance,  in  the  next 
age,  of  some  other  view.  So  soon  as  any 
truth  is  generally  recognized,  and  its  nov- 
elty has  passed  away,  it  falls  by  a  natural 
process  into  the  background  of  the  human 
consciousness.  Another  truth,  which  could 
not  get  full  justice  during  the  ascendency 
of  the  former,  is  brought  to  light,  is  disin- 
terred if  not  discovered  ;  and  its  advocacy 
has  the  charm  of  novelty  for  a  time,  till  it 
too  shares  the  fate  of  its  predecessor,  and 
sinks  into  the  shade,  to  make  room  for  its 
perishable  successor.  But  this  is  not  the 
mere  rise  and  fall  of  systems,  and  their 
reappearance,  precisely  as  they  lived  be- 
fore. Nothing  ever  wholly  dies  ;  but  noth- 
ing returns  to  visible  life  under  the  old 
form.  It  is  changed,  both  by  its  previous 
existence  in  the  field  of  human  conscious- 
ness, and  by  its  temporary  absence  from 
it,  by  its  departure  and  its  return. 

Besides,  as  every  dominant  doctrine  tends 


ECLECTICISM.  IQI 

at  once  and  insensibly  to  become  sectarian, 
the  best  antidote  to  the  evil  of  one-sidedness 
is  usually  a  counter  movement  towards  the 
other  side,  even  althou^i^h  it  be  a  move- 
ment in  excess  across  the  dividing  line. 
Thus  the  error  of  idealism  is  met  by  mate- 
rialistic reaction,  and  vice  versa.  The  evils 
of  extreme  necessitarianism  are  counter- 
acted by  an  extreme  doctrine  of  liberty. 
The  enthusiastic  advocacy  of  a  truth  long 
discsteemed  is  not  only  sure  to  provoke 
hostility,  but  its  excess  is  most  easily 
coimterworked  from  a  position  on  the 
other  side  of  the  golden  mean.  Enthu- 
siasm for  a  particular  truth  is  always 
beautiful,  and  often  useful  ;  but,  as  its  ad- 
vocate may  become  its  idolater,  the  bias 
of  his  enthusiasm  is  best  restrained  by  a 
counter  enthusiasm  for  some  other  truth. 
The  exaggeration  is  inevitable,  and  is  ex- 
cellent while  it  lasts.  It  becomes  perni- 
cious only  if  it  lasts  too  long. 

The  student  of  the  history  of  Philosophy 
may  at  first  be  perplexed  by  the  number 
of  opposing  systems,  and  by  the  curious 
hostilities  of  the  system-builders.  But  so 
soon  as  he  turns  from  the  field  of  history 
to  investigate    the    human    consciousness, 


192  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

and  discovers  the  number  of  conflicting 
elements  that  are  there,  he  ceases  to  won- 
der at  the  diversities  of  the  schools.  The 
latter  are  but  a  sign  of  the  fertility,  the 
resource,  and  the  wealth  of  human  nature. 

The  disparagement  of  the  labors  of  pre- 
decessors, however,  —  which  is  a  failing  of 
so  many  philosophers  —  may  surprise  and 
disappoint  the  student  of  their  works  ; 
more  especially  if  he  observes  how  much 
they  have  been  indebted  to  their  predeces- 
sors, if  not  for  hints  which  they  have  ex- 
]5anded,  at  least  for  the  direction  which 
their  labors  have  taken. 

The  explanation  is  easy.  The  ability  to 
do  justice  to  past  systems  of  opinion  is  a 
rare  intellectual  quality,  especially  if  it  be 
combined  with  original  genius  and  actual 
discovery.  The  ambition  of  founding  or 
completing  a  system  disinclines  the  mind 
to  admit  the  humbling  fact  that  very  much 
of  what  seems  original  has  been  already 
said,  in  another  form,  and  that  there  is  ex- 
ceedingly little  that  is  new  under  the  sun. 

The  illusion  of  originality,  nevertheless, 
has  its  uses.  Most  minds  are  urged  to  un- 
dertake research  by  the  prospect  of  original 
discovery.      Were   the  reappearance  of   an 


KCLECTICISM.  193 

old  system,  in  a  new  dress  or  dialect,  to  be 
surmisod  beforehand,  one  stimulus  to  con- 
tinued speculative  labor  would  be  removed. 
In  other  words,  it  is  the  illusion  of  original- 
ity that  is  the  chief  spur  to  philosophical 
activit)'. 

The  misrepresentation  of  former  sys- 
tems, to  which  I  have  alluded,  itself  ex- 
l)lains  the  rise  of  new  ones.  Miscon- 
ception of  the  nature  or  tendency  of  any 
doctrine  usually  provokes  a  reaction  in  its 
favor,  and  originates  a  desire  to  do  it  jus- 
tice ;  and  so  the  old  opinion  returns  in  a 
new  form.  It  is  true  of  systems  as  of 
individuals :  they  must  be  misconstrued, 
before  they  develop  their  finest  charac- 
teristics. They  take  deej^er  root,  in  the 
storm  of  adverse  criticism.  If  all  men 
spoke  well  of  a  speculative  doctrine,  it 
would  be  as  injurious  to  its  development, 
as  universal  jjraise  would  be  hurtful  to  the 
character  of  its  founder. 

It  is  to  be  further  noted  that  many 
philosophical  systems  differ  in  appearance 
more  than  in  reality.  Their  antagonism 
is  on  the  surface  ;  decp.M'  down  they  unite. 
The  difference  may,  as  I  have  remarked, 
be  simply  one  of  emphasis,  at  the  particu- 


194  £SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

lar  point  where  the  stress  of  the  system  is 
laid.  This  fact  is  so  important  that  it  may 
be  restated  thus.  Two  systems,  let  us  say, 
start  from  the  same  first  principle.  There 
they  are  at  one.  But  the  agreement  is  hid- 
den, is  subterranean.  They  proceed  to  de- 
velop what  they  hold  in  common.  What 
seems  major  to  one  is  minor  to  another,  and 
vice  versa.  This  sense  of  difference,  inten- 
sified by  every  fresh  glance  towards  the 
first  principle,  by  slow  degrees  widens  the 
breach.  The  emphasis  repeated  —  like  the 
slow  modifications  of  organic  structure,  of 
which  science  has  told  us  so  much,  and  by 
which  it  has  explained  so  much  —  results 
in  the  formation  of  a  new  opinion. 

If  any  one  wishes  to  realize  the  latter 
process,  let  him  first  study  the  law  of 
natural  selection  and  the  survival  of  the 
fittest,  in  physical  nature.  Then  if  he 
wants  to  find  that  law  confirmed,  let  him 
watch,  bv  the  light  of  history,  the  evo- 
lution of  human  opinion.  Only  let  the 
stress  continue  to  be  laid  on  one  side  of 
a  truth,  which  has  two  sides,  both  equally 
important  ;  what  is  thus  emphasized  will 
beget  a  new  type  of  opinion,  which  may 
grow  into  a  product  so  unlike    that  from 


ECLECTICISM.  1 95 

which  it  sprung,  that  the  parentage  and 
the  derivation  are  scarcely  recognizable. 
But  the  result  will  have  been  wholly  due 
to  an  increase  of  emphasis,  thrown  entirely 
on  one  side. 

It  follows  from  this  that  the  most  dis- 
tinctive feature  in  each  of  the  philosophi- 
cal schools  is  admitted  —  in  some  form  or 
other  —  by  all  the  rest  ;  only  it  is  subordi- 
nated to  other  features  which  have  the 
front  place  of  honor.  We  may  have  to 
search  for  it  in  what  I  may  call  the  crypts, 
or  underground  recesses  of  the  system  ; 
but,  if  we  do  so,  we  will  find  —  it  may  be 
concealed,  or  it  may  be  almost  obliterated 
—  the  very  truth  which  forms  the  centre- 
point  of  the  rival  philosophical  school.  For 
example,  Socrates  and  the  Sophists  held 
much  in  common,  and  their  original  con- 
flict was  due  to  the  importance  which  the 
former  attached  to  truths  which  the  latter 
only  subordinated.  The  same  is  seen  still 
more  significantly  in  the  conflict  between 
the  Stoics  and  the  Epicureans,  and  preem- 
inently in  the  great  ethical  controversy  of 
the  ages  as  to  Freedom  and  Necessity. 

Thus  when  we  criticise  a  particular  sys- 
tem, and    say,  "  What  So-and-so   holds  in 


196  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

A  —  referring  to  one  part  of  his  doctrine  — 
cannot  be  reconciled  with  what  he  holds 
in  B  —  referring  to  another  part  of  it,  — 
his  system  is  inconsistent,"  what  does  the 
criticism  mean  but  that  he  has  taken  more 
facts  into  account  than  his  system  can 
rationally  explain,  or  than  he  can  make 
coherent  ?  In  other  words,  it  amounts  to 
this  :  that  the  man  is  larger  than  his  sys- 
tem, his  humanity  is  wider  than  his  inter- 
pretation of  human  nature. 

It  has  been  said,  however,  that  when- 
ever Eclecticism  ceases  to  be  a  mere  spirit 
of  philosophizing,  and  becomes  a  system 
of  philosophy,  it  is  false  to  its  own  first 
principle.  In  the  very  act  of  laying  the 
foundations  of  a  school,  the  eclectic,  it  is 
said,  becomes  a  sectarian,  and  commits  an 
act  of  intellectual  suicide.  It  is  therefore 
affirmed  that  Eclecticism  should  be  a  reg- 
ulative principle  in  all  systems,  and  the 
outcome  of  all,  without  being  the  distinc- 
tive badge  of  any  one  ;  that  it  should  be  a 
tendency  rather  than  a  school,  a  way  of 
looking  at  systems  of  opinion,  that  is  sym- 
pathetic, fair-minded,  and  friendly,  rather 
than  antagonistic  and  critical.  We  must 
consider  this  objection. 


ECLECTICISM.  197 

That  it  should  be  a  prevailiii*;  spirit  in 
all  philosophy,  and  that  it  cannot  crystallize 
into  a  dogma  without  belying  its  own  j^rin- 
ciples,  is  undoubted.  I'^u-ther,  if  it  exists 
as  a  tendency  or  attitude,  although  ignored 
as  a  system,  it  is  practically  of  the  greatest 
value.  Hence  its  immense  importance  to 
the  student  of  history.  It  sup{)lies  him 
with  a  double  key,  explanatory  at  once 
of  the  philosophy  of  History,  and  the 
history  of  Philosophy.  But  if,  while  the 
spirit  of  eclecticism  guides  the  construc- 
tive labor  of  the  system-builder,  he  still 
keeps  to  the  groove  of  his  system,  and 
declines  to  assume  the  role  of  the  eclec- 
tic, he  remains  sectarian.  Either  one  of 
two  things  must  result :  he  must  keep  to 
his  system  as  a  distinctive  party  badge, 
and  disown  what  he  will  doubtless  con- 
sider the  vague  position  of  the  eclectic  ;  or 
his  eclecticism  must  conquer  his  system. 

The  intellectual  quality  of  fair-minded- 
ness has  a  front  place  in  the  hierarchy 
of  the  virtues  ;  but  it  may  exist  as  a  ten- 
dency, without  penetrating  to  the  very  core 
of  the  constructive  reason,  and  moulding 
the  system  that  results.  The  highest 
merit  of  eclecticism  is  its  doing  full  jus- 


198  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

tice  to  the  systems  that  partially  under- 
stand, yet  formally  repudiate  it.  As  it  is 
the  supreme  triumph  of  charity  to  include 
the  uncharitable  within  the  area  it  trav- 
erses,—  to  see  something  good  even  in  the 
intolerance  that  is  persecuting,  and  that 
would  if  possible  extinguish  what  it  can- 
not comprehend,  —  so,  it  is  the  crowning 
excellence  of  the  eclectic  spirit  that  it 
sees  some  latent  good  in  the  most  outre 
and  distorted  system  that  has  ever  disfig- 
ured the  annals  of  civilization. 

But  in  its  effort  to  do  justice  to  every 
other  doctrine,  it  has  not  always  been 
just  to  itself.  It  has  sometimes  become 
a  martyr  to  its  own  generosity.  Hence 
it  has  been  stigmatized  as  too  mild  and 
diffusive,  as  the  glorification  of  a  weak 
live-and-let-live  system.  Many  of  those 
who  esteem  its  tendency,  despise  it  as  a 
formulated  theory  ;  and  while  the  specu- 
lative world  refuses  permanently  to  adopt 
any  sectarian  theory  of  knowledge  or  of 
life,  it  has  never  cordially  welcomed  the 
eclectics.  It  has  shown  a  greater  repug- 
nance to  acquiesce  in  this  doctrine  as  the 
last  word  of  Philosophy,  than  to  adopt 
those    sectarian    extremes,    which    Eclect- 


ECLECTICISM.  199 

icism  tries  to  unite  and  reconcile.  How 
is  this  ?  Can  it  be  explained  ?  Yes  ;  the 
eclectic  can  explain  it. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  in  pro])or- 
tion  to  the  width  and  elasticity  of  a  sys- 
tem, is  its  want  of  fitness  as  a  working 
theory  of  knowledge  and  life  —  as  a  doc- 
trine that  can  be  applied  to  human  affairs. 
So  true  is  the  maxim  of  Goethe,  "  Thought 
widens,  but  lames  ;  action  narrows,  but 
animates."  This  is  owing  to  the  fact  that 
all  activity  is,  and  must  be,  carried  on  in 
grooves.  If  we  are  to  work  in  a  world  of 
limitations,  we  must  submit  to  our  limits, 
and  not  chafe  under  them.  We  may  sit 
apart, 

Holding  no  form  of  creed. 
Rut  contemplating  all ; 

but  when  we  do  so,  we  retire  from  our 
place  and  our  duties,  in  a  world  of  imper- 
fect action,  and  of  necessarily  incomplete 
fulfillment. 

Constituted  as  we  are,  it  is  impossible 
for  our  intellectual  vision,  however  wide 
the  horizon  it  may  sweep,  to  take  in  more 
than  a  very  few  and  limited  group  of 
objects  at  any  one  time.  What  results 
from   this .'      It  is    the   temporary    promi- 


200  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

nence  of  one  truth  or  fact  or  law,  or  of 
one  group  of  truths,  facts,  and  laws,  which 
strike  the  eye  of  the  beholder,  arrest  his 
attention,  and  rouse  him  to  action.  If 
he  saw  the  other  and  bordering  truths 
which  balance  the  ones  he  sees,  mitiga- 
ting their  force  and  regulating  their  sway, 

—  truths  which  other  eyes  are  seeing 
while  his  do  not,  —  he  could  scarcely  be 
roused  to  the  defense  or  the  upholding  of 
the  former  ones.  His  enthusiasm  would 
certainly  cool,  and  his  energy  might  col- 
lapse. Does  any  one  imagine  that  if  the 
child  had,  in  his  childhood,  a  presage  of 
the  wisdom  of  the  man,  he  would  show 
any  ardor  in  the  pursuit  of  those  "  child- 
ish things"  which  age  sees  to  be  illusory  .^ 
If  then  the  experientialist,  the  utilitarian, 
the  ontologist,  the  idealist,  were  more  eclec- 
tic than  they  usually  are,  if  they  saw  the 
full    merit    of  the    systems    they    oppose, 

—  while  their  denunciations  would  be  less 
loud,  and  their  antagonism  less  pronounced, 

—  inaction,  and  perhaps  indifference, 
might  take  the  place  of  energy.  It  is 
not  difficult  to  see  why  catholicity  often 
leads  to  inaction,  why  toleration  and  su- 
pineness    go    hand     in    hand  ;    and    why, 


ECLECTICISM.  201 

with  the  narrower  vision  of  the  sectarian 
thinker,  is  usually  associated  the  propa- 
gandist ardor  of  the  partisan. 

From  this  we  may  deduce  a  corollary. 
In  criticising  extremes  of  opinion,  which 
in  their  ultra  forms  are  to  he  condemned, 
the  main  point  is  to  recognize  the  mean, 
and  intellectually  to  return  to  it,  for  the 
preservation  of  intellectual  harmony  ;  but 
to  understand  departure  from  it,  not  merely 
for  the  sake  of  practical  action,  but  for  the 
comprehension  of  the  mean  itself.  ICvery 
time  we  act,  we  depart  from  the  mean,  for 
the  mean  state  is  one  of  torpor  and  repose. 
Since,  however,  we  must  act,  in  one  way  or 
another,  we  must  also  cross  the  medial  line 
between  extremes,  even  while  we  do  not 
lose  sight  of  it,  or  permit  the  intellectual 
eye  to  be  closed  to  it.  If,  as  already  re- 
marked, monotony  would  characterize  the 
beliefs  of  mankind,  were  all  the  members  of 
the  human  race  to  see  eye  to  eye,  the  drear- 
iest results  would  follow  if  all  men  equally 
shunned  the  "falsehood  of  extremes  ;"  be- 
cause it  is  the  cxtrevics  that  make  the  jjican 
intelligible.  Thus,  the  seemingly  illogical 
position  is  reached  :  there  is  an  advantage 
to  the  human  race  in  its  partial  glimpses 


202  JiSSAVS   IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  truth,  in  its  temporary,  if  it  be  not 
a  stationary,  one-sidedness  in  thought  and 
action. 

Here  I  must  allude  to  a  doctrine  of  Jouf- 
froy,  the  distinguished  successor  of  Cousin 
in  the  French  eclectic  school.  He  says 
that  as  truth  and  error  are  mixed  in  every 
system,  if  truth  be  one  and  error  various, 
the  variety  of  the  systems  is  due  to  their 
departures  from  truth  ;  and  he  even  affirms 
that  the  succession  of  the  schools  is  owing 
to  the  error  they  contain,  each  being  a 
fugitive  mirror  of  an  out-reaching  reality. 
I  do  not  think  that  systems  of  opinion  dif- 
fer only  in  the  erroneous  elements  they 
include.  I  would  rather  say  that  the  dis- 
tinctive badge  of  each  is  the  particular 
truth  which  it  is  its  merit  to  have  signal- 
ized, and  made  emphatic.  The  wise  man 
searching  for  truth  finds  its  fragments 
everywhere,  its  entire  presence  nowhere. 
In  every  system  he  sees  it  partial,  dismem- 
bered, isolated  ;  hence  he  is  both  a  believer 
in  evolution,  and  necessarily  a  student  of 
history. 

Eclecticism  and  development  go  hand 
in  hand.  No  consistent  evolutionist  can 
be  other  than  eclectic.     All  systems  hav- 


ECLECTICISM.  203 

ing,  according  to  his  theory,  been  evolved 
out  of  antecedent  ones,  —  and  it  being  his 
function  to  trace  the  lineage  and  geneal- 
ogy of  each,  —  all  have  an  equal  claim  to 
be  regarded  with  honor.  Nay  more,  every 
link  in  the  chain  of  derivation,  being  a 
necessary  sequence,  is  worthy  of  equal  in- 
tellectual respect, —  a  respect  quite  incon- 
sistent with  the  railing  of  some  evolution- 
ists against  certain  products  that  have  been 
evolved.  According  to  their  theory,  as 
the  glacier  shapes  the  valley  and  the  sea 
its  beach,  ancestral  tendencies  and  uncon- 
trollable contemporary  forces  shape  the 
beliefs  of  the  untoward  generation  that  re- 
fuses to  accept  their  doctrines.  And  why 
should  they  be  more  irritated  at  the  philos- 
ophy or  religion  that  surrounds  them,  than 
at  the  denudation  of  the  valley,  or  the 
raising  of  the  sea-beach  .'* 

We  are  sometimes  met,  however,  with 
the  charge  that  Eclecticism  and  Skepti- 
cism go  hand  in  hand.  A  consideration 
of  this  will  lead  both  to  a  final  vindica- 
tion of  the  claims  of  Philosophy,  and  to 
a  further  explanation  of  the  rise  and  fall 
of  "systems "of  opinion.  The  two  prop- 
ositions, that  no  system  is  final,  and  that 


204  £SSAVS  IN  FHILOSOPHY. 

none  is  exhaustive,  carry  with  them  the 
fundamental  postulate  of  eclecticism  ;  but 
this  does  not  give  to  every  system  an  equal 
rank,  or  an  equivalent  value  as  a  theo- 
retical embodiment  of  the  truth  of  things. 
It  is  true  that  if  I  call  no  philosopher  "mas- 
ter," it  is  because  all  are  masters  within 
their  respective  spheres,  and  because  other 
masters  will  yet  arise  to  teach  the  gen- 
erations of  the  future ;  while  the  sphere 
of  truth  itself  outreaches  every  possible 
chart  which  any  of  them  may  construct. 
Any  one  system  of  the  universe,  how- 
ever, is  truer  than  another,  not  in  pro- 
portion to  the  number  of  the  elements  it 
embraces,  but  in  proportion  to  the  accu- 
racy with  which  it  interprets  the  elements 
with  which  it  deals. 

One  advantage  of  a  wise  and  sympa- 
thetic study  of  the  history  of  opinion  is, 
that  it  enables  us  to  dispose  satisfactorily 
of  a  charge  often  ignorantly  brought 
against  the  claims  of  Philosophy.  The 
charge  is  that  it  is  a  barren  study,  yield- 
ing no  results  which  are  demonstrably 
certain,  and  can  be  taken  for  granted  in 
the  investigations  of  the  future.  The 
march  of  the  ])hysical  sciences  is  pointed 


ECLECTICISM.  205 

to  as  one  of  consecutive  conquest  and 
progressive  discovery,  with  no  circular 
movements,  or  serpentine  windings,  or 
dubious  returnings  on  former  tracks. 
ICven  brilliant  "histories  of  philosophy" 
have  been  written  with  the  aim  of  prov- 
ing that  I'hilosophy  is  an  illusion.  Its 
course  is  represented  as  a  series  of  voy- 
ages by  bold  adventurers  on  the  illimita- 
ble waters,  without  ever  touching,  or  even 
seeing,  the  "  ha])pv  isles,"  and  with  many 
experiences  of  shij)wreck  and  disaster. 

In  support  of  this,  we  are  pointed  to 
the  rise  and  fall  of  systems  ;  and  we  are 
asked  either  to  select  one  out  of  the  con- 
flicting multitude,  and  prove  it  to  be 
orthodox,  or  to  abandon  the  study  of  Phi- 
losophy as  resultless. 

The  only  satisfactory  way  of  dealing  with 
this  objection  is  to  get  at  the  cause  of  the 
rise  and  fall  of  all  the  systems  that  have 
ever  existed  in  the  schools,  or  in  the  world 
outside  the  schools.  If  we  clearly  appre- 
hend, not  only  the  reason  why  this  or  that 
opinion  has  happened  to  prevail  at  a  jiar- 
ticular  time,  but  the  source  or  origin  of  all 
.systems,  actual  or  possible,  the  reasonable- 
ness and  the  value  of  philosophical  studv 


206  ESSAYS   IX  FHILOSOPHY. 

will  be  self-evident.  It  will  be  seen  to  be, 
on  the  one  hand,  the  study  of  the  natural 
history  of  the  human  mind  ;  and,  on  the 
other,  the  study  of  the  very  problem  with 
which  the  human  faculties  have  been  in- 
cessantly occupied.  Every  speculative  sys- 
tem is  a  memorial  of  the  effort  made  by 
man  to  interpret  that  mysterious  Text 
which  the  universe  presents  to  his  facul- 
ties for  interpretation.  It  is  an  attempt 
to  explain  the  ultimate  meaning  of  the 
things  that  environ  us  in  the  world  with- 
out, and  occur  in  the  world  within.  Every 
system  that  has  ever  appeared  is  thus  a 
theory  of  the  incanmg  of  Existence  ;  and  is 
therefore  a  partial  unfolding  of  the  onward 
thought  of  humanity,  directed  to  this  prob- 
lem. We  may  safely  hazard  the  assertion 
that  there  must  be  some  truth  in  all  of 
these  systems,  if  there  is  truth  in  any  one  of 
them.  However  defective  it  may  be,  each 
is  a  landmark  or  index  of  progress.  It  has 
not  only  contributed  to  the  de\elopment  of 
the  world's  thought,  it  has  been  a  neces- 
sary/«r/  of  it. 

And,  for  the  same  reason,  it  becomes 
superannuated  and  passes  away.  No  sn's- 
tem    can   expand   beyond   a   certain   limit ; 


ECLECTICISM.  207 

but,  while  it  ceases  to  flourish  —  ana  seems 
to  pass  away  —  what  really  happens  is  this. 
The  development  of  human  intellect  and 
insight,  which  has  been  going  on  for  a 
time  in  one  direction,  pauses  ///  tJiat  di- 
rection, and  begins  to  unfold  itself  along 
another  line.  It  progresses  by  alternate 
ebb  and  flow,  or  by  alternate  beats  of  ac- 
tion and  reaction.  No  "system  "  —  philo- 
sophical, religious,  artistic,  or  social  —  can, 
in  the  nature  of  things,  go  on  expanding 
forever  ;  any  more  than  a  tree,  or  a  flower, 
can  expand  forever.  But  the  human  mind 
continues  to  expand,  the  organic  thought 
of  the  world  develops,  the  flowering  of  the 
general  consciousness  goes  on  ;  and  all  the 
systems,  which  record  and  register  these, 
are  merely  historical  memorials,  by  wliich 
the  rise  of  intellect  and  feeling,  in  certain 
directions,  and  to  a  particular  height,  is 
marked.  Thus  the  hope  of  attaining  a 
finally  perfect,  or  absolutely  orthodox  phi- 
losophy—  a  "system"  that  shall  compose 
the  controversies  of  the  ages,  and  end 
the  strife  of  rival  schools  —  is  Utopian.  It 
is  the  fond  illusion  of  speculative  youth, 
which  passes  away  in  the  more  sober  judg- 
ments   of    experience,    especially  if    these 


208  ESSAYS  IX  PHILOSOPHY. 

judgments  are  formed  under  the  light  of 
history.  And  it  disappears,  not  because 
truth  is  despaired  of,  or  because  so  little  of 
it  can  be  known,  but  because  so  much  of 
it  is  seen,  and  is  seen  scattered  everywhere 
in  fragments. 

If  therefore  the  history  of  Philosophy 
shows  the  incessant  swing  of  the  pendu- 
lum of  thought  between  opposite  poles  of 
opinion,  if  destructive  systems  are  followed 
by  constructive  ones,  if  the  skeptic  suc- 
ceeds the  dogmatist,  if  an  idealistic  reac- 
tion follows  in  the  wake  of  every  material- 
istic movement,  the  explanation  is  easy. 
It  is  not  only  that  one  extreme  invariably 
gives  rise  to  its  opposite,  and  that  the  two 
act  and  react  upon  each  other  ;  it  is  also 
that  both  are  always  present,  within  hu- 
manity itself.  It  is  constantly  forgotten 
that  our  "systems  of  opinion  "  are  only  an 
illustration  of  certain  permanent  tendencies 
of  human  nature.  They  exhibit  the  upper 
or  surface  sign  of  an  underworking  current, 
which  is  ceaselessly  moving  on,  often  quite 
unknown  to  the  system-makers,  — like  those 
vast  tidal  waves,  of  the  rise  and  fall  of  which 
the  voyager  on  the  Atlantic  is  wholly  un- 
conscious.    The  reason  whv  one  and  an- 


KCl.ECJICISM.  209 

Other  "system"  is  dominant,  and  the  reason 
why  they  all  reappear  (after  falling  for  a 
time  into  the  shade),  is  that  they  represent 
ineradicable  phases  of  thought,  and  are, 
therefore  uncliminable  elements  in  human 
civilization.  It  is  thus  that  the  doctrines 
of  the  world's  youth  reappear  in  its  age 
that  the  systems  of  ancient  India  are  seen 
in  modern  Germany,  and  that  the  thought 
of  the  old  Greek  sages  has  a  resurrection 
in  Oxford  and  Berlin.  If  any  symbol  is 
permissible  in  Philosophy  it  is  that  of  the 
phcenix. 

Perhaps  the  most  signal  service  which 
eclecticism  has  rendered  to  the  cause  of  hu- 
man progress  is  the  new  way  of  looking  at 
History,  and  the  historical  schools,  which 
it  has  introduced.  A  wide  knowledge  of 
the  history  of  opinion  has  often  given  rise 
to  catholicity  in  philosophical  theory  ;  and 
although  all  historians  have  their  bias,  no 
study  is  more  helpful  to  width  of  view,  or 
is  more  emphatically  the  parent  of  fair- 
mindedness.  But  the  benefit  is  reciprocal. 
If  historical  study  promotes  P^clecticism, 
by  showing  that  its  basis  is  broadly  laid  in 
the  region  of  fact  and  event,  the  eclectic 
spirit  is  one  of  the  best  safeguards  to  the 


210  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

historian.  It  preserves  him  from  the  taint 
of  partisanship.  It  animates  the  study  of 
the  driest  details  with  Hving  interest,  by 
connecting  them  with  their  causes  and 
their  issues.  It  has  done  immense  service 
to  human  progress  by  showing  that  the 
true  function  of  the  historical  critic  is  not 
so  much  to  expose  illusions,  as  to  ascertain 
their  origin  ;  to  rise  above,  by  getting  be- 
hind them  ;  and  to  discover  the  living  root 
whence  error  has  sprung,  and  of  which  it 
is  the  distortion.  It  is  thus  opposed  to 
every  form  of  iconoclasm.  In  so  far  as 
our  liberal  teachers  and  thinkers  are  icon- 
oclasts, in  so  far  as  they  are  irreverent 
towards  the  past  or  towards  the  present, 
they  are  non-eclectic,  sectarian,  revolution- 
ary ;  and  the  practical  merit  of  the  system 
I  have  been  trying  to  expound  —  a  merit 
probably  greater  than  the  most  perfect  the- 
oretical consistency  would  be  —  is  its  large 
tolerance,  its  spirit  of  conciliation  rather 
than  of  compromise,  and  its  detection  of 
truth  underneath  all  the  exaggeration,  dis- 
tortion, and  caricature  of  the  systems  that 
have  from  time  to  time  emerged. 


PERSONALITY    AND   THE    INFI- 
NITE. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  noticeable  facts  in 
the  history  of  opinion  that  speculative  doc- 
trines, which  become  sharply  antagonistic 
when  carried  to  their  legitimate  results, 
are  found  to  harmonize  at  the  basis  whence 
they  spring.  There,  they  may  even  touch 
each  other,  while  their  developed  conclu- 
sions may  be  as  wide  as  the  poles  asunder. 
It  has  been  said  that  opposite  errors  have 
usually  a  common  irpwrov  i/^erSo?.  It  is  per- 
haps truer  to  affirm  that  all  antagonistic 
theories  take  their  rise  from  an  underlying 
root  of  truth.  The  history  of  philosophy 
shows  how  easily  differences,  which  are 
trivial  at  their  first  appearance,  develop 
into  distinctive  schools  of  opinion,  and 
how  rapidly  they  are  confirmed  by  the  re- 
action and  antagonism  of  rival  systems. 

The  question  whether  the  supreme  Be- 
ing, or  ultimate  Existence  within  the  uni- 
verse, is  in  any  sense  personal,  —  whether 


2  12  ASSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

it  can  be  legitimately  spoken  of,  and  inter- 
preted by  us,  in  the  terms  in  which  we 
speak  of,  and  interpret  our  own  personal- 
ity, is  as  old  as  the  discussions  of  the  Elea- 
tics  in  Greece  ;  and  from  Parmenides  to 
Hegel  it  has  been  solved  in  one  way,  while 
from  the  Jewish  monotheists,  through  the 
entire  course  of  Christian  theology,  it  has 
been  answered  in  another.  National  tem- 
perament and  racial  tendency  have  had 
their  influence  in  determining  the  charac- 
ter of  these  answers  ;  and  we  may  perhaps 
af^rm  that  the  instinct  of  the  Semitic  races 
has  tended  in  one  direction,  while  that  of 
the  Aryan,  or  Indo-European,  has  tended 
in  another.  If  recent  discussion  of  the 
subject  in  contemporary  literature  contrib- 
utes little  to  the  solution  of  this  contro- 
versy of  the  ages,  it  has  the  merit  of 
presenting  the  perennial  problem  in  a 
singularly  clear  light  ;  and  it  proves  how 
the  most  abstruse  questions  of  human 
knowledge  continue  to  fascinate  the  heart, 
and  to  tax  the  intellect  of  man,  while  they 
directly  affect  his  practical  life. 

The  late  David  Frederick  Strauss,  and 
the  brilliant  literary  critic  ■ —  Matthew  Ar- 
nold —  ha\'e  each  written  strongly  against 


PERSONALITY  AND    THE   INFINllE.     213 

the  notion  of  personality  in  God  ;  the  for- 
mer, consistently  devcloi)ing  the  Hegelian 
doctrine,  which  he  has  applied  to  the  prob- 
lems of  religious  history  ;  the  latter,  en- 
deavoring to  lay  the  basis  of  a  new  rever- 
ence for  the  Bible,  through  a  phenomenal 
psychology  and  doctrine  of  ignorance,  in 
those  delightful,  though  confessedly  unsys- 
tematic papers  in  the  Contemporary  Re- 
view,^ full  of  delicate  and  happy  criticism, 
though  dashed  too  much  with  persiflage, 
and  scarcely  grave  enough  when  the  radi- 
cal importance  of  the  question  is  consid- 
ered, in  connection  with  the  literature  of 
solemn  speculation  on  the  subject. 

Mr.  Arnold  has  been  telling  us  that  we 
must  give  up  and  renounce  forever  the  de- 
lusion that  God  is  "  a  person  who  thinks 
and  loves."  We  are  to  recognize  instead 
"a  stream  of  tendency,  by  which  all  things 
fulfill  the  law  of  their  being;"  a  "power 
that  lives  and  breathes  and  feels,"  but  not 
"a  person  who  thinks  and  loves."  We  are 
directed,  as  all  the  world  knows,  to  "  the 
eternal  not-ourselves  that  makes  for  right- 
eousness." But  does  this  curious  entity, 
this  "eternal  not-ourselves,"  present  a  more 

^  Afterwards  published  in  his  book,  God  and  the  Bible. 


214  JtSSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

adequate  notion  to  the  intellect  than  that 
which  it  is  meant  to  displace  ?  Is  it  less 
ambiguous,  or  less  hypothetical  ?  We  are 
asked  to  substitute,  for  the  exploded  notion 
of  a  personal  God,  a  negative  entity  of 
which  all  that  can  with  certainty  be  af- 
firmed is  that  it  is  "not  we  ourselves,"  that 
it  is  beyond  us  and  eternal.  All  else  is  to 
be  set  aside  as  personification  and  poetry, 
or  "extra-belief."  But  would  not  an  "eter- 
nal-in-ourselves  "  making  for  righteousness 
be  a  more  intelligible,  an  equally  relevant, 
and  equally  verifiable  notion  .-'  And  how 
do  we  know  it  to  be  "  eternal,"  but  by  an 
a  priori  process,  which  the  new  philosophy 
would  disown  .-*  and  is  "  a  power  that  feels  " 
more  intelligible,  or  verifiable,  than  "  a 
power  that  thinks  .'  "  We  are  supposed  to 
be  conducted,  by  the  help  of  this  definition, 
out  of  the  dim  regions  of  theological  haze, 
to  the  terra  finna  of  verifiable  knowledge. 
Is  it  then  less  intricate  and  confusing  than 
the  old  historic  conception,  which  it  is  in- 
tended to  supplant .''  Xo  one,  it  is  said, 
"  has  discovered  the  nature  of  God  to  be 
personal,  or  is  entitled  to  assert  that  God 
has  conscious  intelligence."  But  we  are 
told  to  look  to  "the  constitution  and  his- 


rERSONAI.lTY  AND    1111:  IXl-IXITE.     21  5 

tory  of  things,"  where  we  find  an  "eternal 
tendency  "  at  work  "  outside  of  us,  prevail- 
ing whether  we  will  or  no,  whether  we  are 
here  or  not;"  and  we  shall  find  that  this 
eternal  luni-cgo  "makes  for  righteousness." 
The  special  merit  which  the  new  defini- 
tion claims  for  itself  is  that  it  is  a  lumi- 
nous one,  and  that  it  is  within  the  range 
of  experience,  where  it  can  be  tested  and 
verified.  Now,  in  this  demand  for  verifi- 
cation, Mr.  Arnold  cither  wishes  our  reli- 
gious philosophy  to  be  recast  in  terms  of 
the  exact  sciences,  and  nothing  accepted  in 
the  sphere  of  psychology  and  mctaphysic 
which  cannot  be  reached  as  we  reach  con- 
clusions in  mathematics  ;  or  he  is  stating  a 
philosophical  commonplace,  viz.,  that  moral 
truth  is  not  susceptible  of  demonstrative 
evidence.  Are  not  the  terms  he  makes 
use  of,  however,  both  loose  and  deceptive  .' 
This  "making  for  righteousness"  is  meant 
to  descril)e  the  action  of  a  vast  imper.-^onal 
tendency,  everywhere  operative  towards 
that  end.  But  surely  all  our  experience  of 
"tendency"  in  the  direction  of  righteous- 
ness is  personal.  Observation  of  the  re- 
sults of  human  action,  of  the  consequences 
of  wrong-doing  and   of   riirhteous   conduct 


2l6  ESSAYS   /A"  PHlLOSOrHY. 

respectively,  shows  that  certain  causes,  set 
in  motion  by  ourselves  or  by  others,  issue 
in  certain  subjective  effects.  If  we  con- 
fine ourselves  to  the  sphere  of  experience, 
we  not  only  get  no  farther  than  the  obser- 
vation of  phenomena,  but  all  the  succes- 
sion we  observe  is  personal,  because  it  is 
the  field  of  human  conduct  alone  that  is 
before  us.  In  thus  limiting  ourselves,  how- 
ever, another  fact  arrests  our  notice.  If 
there  be  a  stream  of  tendency,  not  our- 
selves, that  makes  for  righteousness,  there 
is  also  a  stream  of  tendency,  not  ourselves, 
that  makes  for  wickedness.  There  are  tzi.'o 
streams  of  tendency  flowing  through  the 
universe,  into  one  or  other  of  which  all  the 
lesser  rills  of  influence  flow.  We  can  trace 
their  fluctuating  course,  from  the  early 
centuries  to  the  present  time  ;  but  what 
the  better  are  we  of  either,  as  a  solution  of 
the  ultimate  problem  of  the  universe  .'  If 
we  confine  ourselves  to  the  limited  area 
open  to  inductive  inference,  and  the  verifi- 
cations of  experience,  we  cannot  reach  the 
conclusion  that  there  is  a  single  stream  of 
tendency,  not  ourselves  and  beneficent, 
which  makes  for  righteousness  alone.  If 
certain  phenomena  seem  to  warrant  this  in- 


rEKSO.VAl.l lY  AXD    TIU:   I.XI- 1 XITK.     21  J 

fercnce,  counter-appearances  suggest,  with 
equal  force,  the  operation  of  a  malignant 
power,  making  j)crsistently  for  evil  ;  and 
with  two  antagonistic  forces  in  pcrjictual 
collision,  the  conditions  of  ditheism  are 
complete,  and  the  Manichcan  doctrine  is 
reached. 

Returning  to  the  formula  against  which 
Mr.  iVrnold  has  directed  so  many  sliafts  of 
criticism,  viz.,  that  God  is  "a  person  who 
thinks  and  loves,"  I  have  no  hesitation  in 
accepting  it  as  a  substantially  accurate  def- 
inition of  what  is  held  by  the  majority  of 
theists  ;  although,  perhaps  few  would  state 
it  in  these  terms,  and  it  is  liable  to  mis- 
conception, chiefly  through  the  use  of  the 
indefinite  article.  If  Mr.  Arnold  were 
merely  cautioning  us  against  identifying 
our  notion  of  what  constitutes  personality 
in  Gotl,  with  our  concept  of  personality  in 
man,  —  if  his  teaching  t)n  this  point  were 
but  a  warning  against  the  popular  ten- 
dency to  assume,  either  that  human  nature 
was  an  adequate  measure  of  the  Divine, 
or  that  it  afforded  our  only  light  as  to  the 
characteristics  of  the  Divine,  —  it  would 
be  most  salutary  ;  although  it  would  be 
merely  a  continuation  of  the  familiar  mes- 


2i8  £SSAVS  /.v  FHJLosorny. 

sage  of  the  seers  of  Israel,  a  modern 
echo  of  the  prophetic  voices  of  the  He- 
brew Church,  when  they  affirmed  that  He 
is  "  not  altogether  such  an  one  as  our- 
selves." It  amounts,  however,  to  much 
more  than  this.  It  is  an  echo  of  the 
dogma  which  lies  at  the  heart  of  every 
monistic  system  of  speculation  ;  viz.,  that 
there  is  a  radical  inconsistency,  or  contra- 
diction, between  the  notions  of  the  Per- 
sonal and  the  Infinite,  so  that  we  cannot 
combine  both  in  a  concept  which  con- 
serves the  characteristics  of  each  ;  but 
must,  in  logical  consistency,  surrender  the 
one,  or  the  other ;  that,  in  short,  if  God  be 
a  person.  He  cannot  be  infinite  ;  and  if  in- 
finite, He  must  be  impersonal.  Personal- 
ity is  regarded  as,  in  all  cases,  essentially 
limited,  and  necessarily  bounded-.  In  the 
human  race,  the  personality  of  each  man 
is  supposed  to  consist  in  his  isolation  from 
his  fellows  ;  and  it  is  inferred  that  all  per- 
sonality consists  in  a  gathering  together  of 
self,  at  a  centre  or  focus  of  individuality  ; 
that  it  is  realizable  and  real,  only  in  its 
separation  from,  and  exclusion  of,  other 
things  ;  while  it  is  affirmed  that  the  Abso- 
lute and  Infinite  are  all-embracing:  and  all- 


PERSONALITY  AND   THE  INflXlTE.     JI9 

surrounding:,  excluding  nothinj:^,  but  enfold- 
ing within  themselves  the  totality  of  exist- 
ence. Therefore,  it  is  said,  if  there  be  an 
infinite  and  absolute  Being  in  the  universe, 
nothing  else  can  exist  besides.  He  will 
take  up  and  include  within  himself  all  ex- 
istence whatsoever ;  but,  in  so  doing,  he 
cannot  be  personal  ;  for  the  personal  is  al- 
ways the  bounded,  the  fenced,  the  separate, 
the  inclosed. 

To  put  the  dif^culty  which  the  theistic 
solution  presents  in  its  strongest  light,  I 
restate  the  problem  thus :  luideavoring 
to  realize  the  infinite,  whether  in  space  or 
in  time,  we  may  begin  by  imagining  cir- 
cles beyond  circles,  or  lines  of  continuous 
succession  unbroken  by  any  point  or  in- 
terval. We  rise  on  the  wings  of  imagi- 
nation, and  pursue  the  journey  till  thought 
sinks  paralyzed.  But  in  so  doing,  we  have 
never  really  got  one  step  beyond  the  finite. 
By  such  imaginative  flights  along  the  lines 
of  sequence,  or  over  areas  of  space,  we 
never  approach  one  whit  nearer  to  the 
Infinite ;  and  why .-'  because  the  vastest 
conceivable  aggregate  of  finites  is  not 
really  liker  it,  than  is  the  unit  from  which 
we  start,  in  the  process  of    multiplication. 


220  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

The  one  is  but  the  other  "writ  large." 
Therefore,  we  may  not  only  reach  the  no- 
tion as  well  before  the  journey  of  finite 
thought  commences,  but  if  we  reach  it  at 
all,  it  must  be  by  a  process  wholly  differ- 
ent from  an  expansion  of  the  finite,  and  by 
the  exercise  of  another  faculty  than  that  of 
imagination. 

We  may  reach  it,  however,  in  a  mo- 
ment, not  by  a  multiplication  of  the  finite, 
but  by  its  elimination  ;  not  by  enlarging 
the  notion,  but  by  abolishing  it.  All  con- 
ceivable finites  being  before  the  mind,  as 
an  indefinite  quantity,  we  may  say  with 
Herder,  "These  I  remove,  and  thou  —  the 
Infinite  —  liest  all  before  me."  Our 
speculative  thought  of  the  Infinite  is  not 
a  pictorial  or  concrete  realization  of  it  as 
a  mental  image,  built  up  out  of  elements 
furnished  by  sense-experience,  or  imagi- 
natively bodied  forth  on  the  inner  horizon 
of  the  mind.  We  do  not  reach  it  by  a 
synthetic  process,  piecing  together  a  mul- 
titude of  finite  things,  sweeping  round 
them,  and  imagining  them  in  their  totality. 
But  we  at  once  and  directly  think  away 
all  limitation,  and  abolish  the  finite,  by 
excluding    individual    determinate     things, 


I'KRSONALITY  AND   THE  lA'lIMTK.     221 

from  a  field  preoccupied  by  thought.  Now, 
with  this  idea  of  the  Infinite  —  as  the  ne- 
gation of  the  finite  —  is  it  possible  to  con- 
join the  notion  of  anything  whatever  that 
is  personal  ?  Personality  manifests  itself 
to  us  familiarly,  under  the  restrictions  of 
finite  form.  It  is  difficult  to  conjoin  it 
even  with  the  notion  of  the  indefinitely 
vast.  As  you  approach  the  latter,  tlie  for- 
mer seems  to  recede.  Is  there  an  intel- 
lectual stereoscope,  through  which  the  two 
notions  may  be  seen,  blent  in  the  unity 
of  a  single  conception  }  The  defined  idea 
of  personality,  and  the  shadowy  notion  of 
the  infinite,  may  be  bracketed  together 
under  a  common  term,  which  expresses 
them  both  ;  can  they  also  be  tluuight  in 
conjunction  .'  and  have  we  any  warrant  for 
the  inference  that  they  actually  coalesce 
in  the  supreme  existence  which  we  call 
God  }  This  is  the  chief  problem  in  the 
philosophy  of  theism. 

In  dealing  with  it,  all  that  we  seem  war- 
ranted in  affirming  is,  that  personality  is 
one  of  the  characteristics  under  which  the 
Supreme  Being  manifests  himself ;  not 
that  it  is  exhaustive  of  those  phases  of 
manifestation    that  are  either    possible   or 


222  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

actual.  If  we  say  that  it  is  the  highest 
aspect  known  to  us.  we  speak  in  a  figure, 
and  proclaim  the  poverty  of  our  insight. 
For,  to  the  Infinite,  there  is  nothing  either 
high  or  low.  These  are  ratios  of  com- 
parison by  which  the  finite  calculates. 
We  give  to  the  notion  of  personality  an 
eminence  and  value  that  are  unique  ;  be- 
cause, amongst  the  phenomena  of  the  uni- 
verse, it  seems  to  us  the  noblest  and  the 
most  commanding.  But  it  is  not,  of  neces- 
sity, the  exclusive  idea  attachable  to  the 
Divine  Nature.  That,  within  the  fullness 
of  its  infinitude,  there  should  be  aspects, 
phases,  features,  characteristics,  which  are 
totally  unlike  and  utterly  transcending  the 
personality  of  which  we  are  conscious,  is  a 
simple  deduction  from  that  infinitude. 

With  entire  consistency,  therefore,  we 
may  affirm  at  once  the  personality  and  the 
transcendency  of  God  ;  that  is  to  say,  we 
may  affirm  that  He  is  a  person,  as  we 
understand  the  term,  and  that  He  is  more 
than  a  person,  as  we  understand  it.  We 
cannot  limit  the  aspects  which  his  Being 
may  assume  to  the  phases  which  our  own 
nature  presents,  any  more  than  we  may  nar- 
row the  limits  of  his  efficiency  within  the 


rEkSOXALITV  AND    THE  IXFIXITK.     223 

boundaries  of  our  own.  If  we  believe  that 
everything;  distinctive  of  human  pv,'rson- 
aiity  exists  in  God,  in  more  exalted  phases, 
we  must  believe  that  infinitely  more,  at 
the  same  time  ditferent  from  it,  co-exists 
within  that  nature.  In  other  words,  al- 
though we  recognize  certain  features  in 
the  Divine  infinitude,  analogous  to  the  per- 
sonality of  which  we  are  conscious,  it  does 
not  follow  that  we  may  identify  the  two, 
and  take  the  human  as  a  measure  of  the 
Divine.  It  is  true  we  may  err  by  taking 
a  poor  and  circumscribed  notion,  gathered 
from  the  workings  of  our  own  faculties,  and 
substituting  it  for  the  glory  that  is  imper- 
sonal, and  the  order  that  is  eternal ;  but  that 
danger  is  not  so  great  as  is  the  counter- 
risk  of  losing  the  personal  altogether  in  the 
nebulous  haze  of  the  infinite.  The  divine 
Absoluteness  is  lost  to  view,  if  we  think 
merely  of  an  infinite  human  being  ;  and 
God  is  as  trulv  discerned  in  the  life,  the 
movements,  and  the  glory  of  the  universe, 
which  we  cannot  call  human, —  in  the  ab- 
solute Order,  the  eternal  Beauty,  the  imper- 
sonal Sublimity,  and  the  indefinite  Splen- 
dor, which  we  can  describe  by  no  human 
attribute  or  tendency,  —  as  He  is  revealed 


224  £SSAyS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

in  the  wisdom,  the  tenderness,  the  grace, 
and  the  affection  that  are  properly  our  own. 

P'urther,  were  we  warranted  in  taking 
our  human  nature  as  the  sole  clue  to  the 
Divine,  we  might  regard  it  also  as  its  cri- 
terion or  test ;  and,  carrying  up  its  mingled 
moral  phenomena,  might  find  their  arche- 
types in  celestial  tendencies  to  evil  as  well 
as  to  good.  It  is  the  notion  that  the 
sphere  of  finite  existence  supplies  us  with 
an  area  for  inductive  inference  as  to  the 
procedure  of  the  Absolute,  that  has  given 
rise  to  so  many  of  the  distortions  of  popu- 
lar theology. 

What,  then,  is  our  warrant  for  assuming 
an  analogy  which  does  not  amount  to  an 
identity,  and  in  thus  affirming  the  exist- 
ence of  a  Personality  at  once  real  and 
transcendent,  or  —  if  we  may  venture  on 
the  distinction  —  human,  yet  not  anthro- 
pomorphic .'' 

The  radical  feature  of  personality,  as 
known  to  us  —  whether  apprehended  by 
self-consciousness  or  recognized  in  others 
—  is  the  survival  of  a  permanent  self  un- 
der all  the  fleeting  or  deciduous  phases  of 
experience ;  in  other  words,  the  personal 
identity   that  is  involved  in  the  assertion. 


JW-A'SOjVAL/TV  A.V/)   THE  I.yF/A'/TE.     225 

"  I  am."  While  my  individual  thouf^lits, 
feelings,  and  acts  pass  away  and  jierish,  I 
continue  to  exist,  to  live,  and  to  grow  in 
the  fullness  of  experience.  15cneath  the 
shows  of  things,  tlie  everlasting  flux  and 
reflux  of  phenomenal  change,  a  substance 
or  interior  essence  sur\ives.  Is  limitation 
a  necessary  adjunct  of  that  notion  .'  May 
there  not  be  an  everlasting  succession  of 
thoughts,  emotions,  and  volitions, — acts  of 
consciousness  in  perpetual  series, — while 
the  substantial  and  permanent  self  remains, 
underneath  the  evanescent  phenomena  .^ 
and  may  not  the  thought,  feeling,  etc., 
have  an  infinite  range,  and  be  all-pervasive 
and  interpenetrating  at  every  spot  within 
the  universe.'  Surely  limitation  does  not 
enter  of  necessity  into  the  notion  of  per- 
sonality. The  action  of  a  personal  being 
is  limited  by  the  material  on  which  he 
works,  by  his  surroundings  and  circum- 
stances ;  and  our  personalities  are  limited 
by  other  things,  because  they  surround  us; 
but  if  we  surrounded  them,  and  pervaded 
all  finite  things  by  omnipresent  energy, 
the  limitation  would  be  simply  a  mode  of 
action,  and  a  condition  of  activity.  It  does 
not  therefore  follow,  from  our  experience 


226  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  limitation,  that  in  being  conscious,  the 
conscious  subject  must  be  invariably  or 
necessarily  limited  by  the  presence  and 
environment  of  others.  May  it  not  be 
unlimited  in  act,  unshackled  by  conditions, 
spontaneous  in  all  it  does,  although  it  acts 
through  the  instrumentality  and  agency  of 
others  ? 

We  may  put  the  question  in  a  fresh  form 
thus  :  Is  separateness  from  other  exist- 
ences equivalent  to  finitude  ?  Does  the 
one  notion  carry  the  other  with  it,  or 
within  it  ?  All  finite  existences  are  sepa- 
rate, one  from  another  ;  but  does  it  follow 
that  all  existence  that  is  separate  from 
other  forms  or  phases  must  be  finite  ? 
The  infinite  existence,  which  we  conceive 
as  the  simple  negation  of  the  finite,  may 
surely  pervade  the  latter  without  limita- 
tion. The  idea  of  a  fence  or  boundary  is 
not  involved  in  the  notion  of  Personality 
in  the  abstract,  although  it  is  involved  in 
the  notion  of  finite  personality.  It  does 
not  therefore  follow  that,  if  a  being  is  per- 
sonal, it  must  on  that  account  be  simply 
one  out  of  many,  —  differentiated  from 
others,  by  reason  of  its  personality.  Its 
personality  need  not  be  the  cause  of  its 


PERSONALITY  AND   THE  INEEYITE.     22/ 

separatcncss  and  differentiation.  Doubt- 
less it  cannot  exist  out  of  relation  to  other 
beings  ;  since  —  to  fall  back  on  the  sugges- 
tions of  philology  —  all  r.ristence,  or  the 
emergence  of  being  in  definite  forms  and 
relations,  implies  separateness  from  others. 
Although  particular  existence  is  what  it  is, 
however,  in  virtue  of  other  existences  de- 
termining and  conditioning  it,  — and  we,  in 
our  limitation,  cannot  be  conscious  of  our 
own  personality,  except  under  the  condi- 
tion of  a  non-ego  beyond  us,  —  it  is  an  ille- 
gitimate inference  from  this  to  affirm  that 
personality  cannot  exist,  or  be  consciously 
realized,  except  under  the  condition  of  a 
limiting  non-ego.  Is  it  not  conceivable  that 
the  sense  of  a  limiting  non-cj^o  would  van- 
ish,  in  the  case  of  a  being  that  was  tran- 
scendent, and  a  life  that  was  all-pervasive  ? 
That  the  dualism,  involved  in  all  finite 
consciousness,  should  cease  in  the  case  of 
the  Infinite,  may  be  difificult  for  us  to  real- 
ize ;  but  to  affirm  that  self-consciousness 
of  necessity  implies  a  centre  or  focus,  at 
which  the  scattered  rays  of  individuality 
are  gathered  up,  is  assuredly  to  transgress 
by  the  unwarranted  use  of  a  physical  anal- 
ogy. 


'>r,y 


228  ESSAYS  IN-  nilLOSOPHY. 

I  may  here  quote  from  Strauss,  who  al- 
ways states  his  case  with  force  and  clear- 
ness :  — 

The  modern  monotheistic  conception  of  God 
has  two  sides,  that  of  the  Absolute  and  that  of 
the  Personal,  which,  although  united  in  Him, 
are  so  in  the  same  manner  as  that  in  which 
two  qualities  are  sometimes  found  in  one  per- 
son, one  of  which  can  be  traced  to  the  father's 
side,  the  other  to  the  mother's.  The  one  ele- 
ment is  the  Hebrew  Christian,  the  other  the 
Graeco-philosophical  contribution  to  our  con- 
ception of  God.  We  may  say  that  we  inherit 
from  the  Old  Testament  the  •'  Lord-God,"  from 
the  New  the  "  God-Father,"  but  from  the  Greek 
philosophy  the  "Godhead,'"  or  the  "Absolute."  ■^ 

So  far  well,  and  excellently  put.  But  if  it 
be  so,  if  these  notions  —  seemingly  incom- 
patible—  are  united  in  our  modern  mono- 
theism "in  the  same  manner  as  two  qual- 
ities are  sometimes  found  in  one  person," 
does  not  that  mitigate  the  difficulty  of  real- 
izing both  as  combined  in  one  transcend- 
ent Personality.''  As  two  rills  of  heredi- 
tary influence  unite  to  form  a  single  stream 
of  personality  in  the  individual,  and  as  two 
great  conceptions  of  God  have  survived  in 

'    Old  a>id  X,-v  Faitlu  p.  121. 


I'EKSOA'Al.l TV  AND    JJIE  INFIM'IK.     229 

the  world,  and  alternately  come  to  the  front 
in  the  mind  of  the  race,  — ■  call  them,  for 
distinction's  sake,  the  Hebraic  and  the 
Hellenic,  —  cannot  these  be  supposed  to 
unite  in  one  vast  stream  of  Transcendent 
Beini;-  ?  And  are  not  these  two  concep- 
tions merely  different  ways  of  iiitcrpn-tiiii^ 
that  sui^reme  Existence,  which  both  equally 
recognize  ?  If  we  inherit  theje  notions 
from  the  sources  which  Strauss  so  happily 
indicates,  wh}'  should  we  proceed  to  dis- 
own one  half  of  the  inheritance,  casting  out 
the  Jewish  as  airy  and  un verifiable,  while 
we  retain  the  Greek  as  real  and  scien- 
tific ?  If  we  are  indebted  to  both,  why  re- 
fuse one  half  of  the  legacy  ?  or  construe  it 
as  the  ghostly  shadow  ?  while  the  other  is 
the  enduring  substance  ?  Was  not  the 
monotheism  of  the  Jew  at  least  a  histori- 
cal discipline  to  the  human  consciousness, 
in  the  interpretation  of  a  real  side  of  the 
mystery,  which  in  its  fullness  eluded  him, 
as  much  as  it  baffled  the  Greek  ontolo- 
gists  ?  Grant  that  the  Jewish  notion  of 
personality  degenerated  at  times  into  an 
anthropomorphism  that  was  crude,  and 
scarely  more  elevated  than  the  polytheism 
it  supplanted.     The  emphasis  which  it  laid 


230  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

on  the  distinction  and  separateness  of  God 
from  the  world  was,  nevertheless,  part  of 
the  historic  education  of  the  race;  just  as 
the  emphasis  which  the  Greek  mind  laid 
on  the  unity  which  underlies  all  separate- 
ness was  another  part  of  that  many-sided 
education. 

The  idea  that  "  personality  implies  a 
limit  "  is  largely  due  to  the  physical  or 
semi-physical  notions  that  have  gathered 
round  the  notion  of  a  throne  on  which  a 
monarch  is  seated.  If  we  give  up  these 
symbols  of  a  "throne,"  a  "court,"  and  "a 
retinue  of  angels,"  and  even  renounce  that 
of  a  local  "heaven"  as  an  "optical  illu- 
sion," we  shall  not  thus  "lose  every  attri- 
bute of  personal  existence  and  action,"  as 
Strauss  tells  us  we  must.  Every  rational 
theist,  nay  every  thoughtful  man,  under- 
stands that  these  ideas  are  the  mere  sym- 
bolical drapery,  which  has  been  wTapped 
around  the  spiritual  notion  by  the  rea- 
listic imagination  of  the  Jews. 

The  whole  of  the  sensuous  imagery  un- 
der which  the  Divine  Nature  is  portrayed, 
as  well  as  the  material  figures  inlaid  in 
every  sentence  in  which  we  speak  of  the 
spiritual  realm,  are  mere  aids  to  the  imagi- 


FLKSONAl.lTY  A\D   THE  lA'l-IMTK.     23  I 

native  faculty.  They  are  the  steps  of  a 
ladder  on  which  we  rise,  in  order  that  we 
may  transcend  the  symbols, — just  as  we 
find  that  a  realization  of  indefinite  areas 
of  space,  or  intervals  of  time,  hel[)s  us  in 
that  transcendent  act,  by  which  we  think 
away  the  finite,  and  reach  the  infinite. 
But  that  God  is,  to  quote  the  ancient  for- 
mula, "all  in  the  whole  and  all  in  every 
l)art "  (as  the  soul  is  in  the  body),  not 
localized  at  any  centre,  —  this  is  one  of 
the  commonplaces  of  theology.  The  no- 
tion of  the  oriental  mind,  which  has  col- 
ored much  of  our  western  theology,  that 
such  symbols  as  those  associated  with  roy- 
alty must  be  taken  literally,  and  not  as 
"figures  of  the  true,"  is  expressly  rejected 
in  some  of  the  definitions  of  the  Church 
itself.  And  further,  there  is  scarcely  an 
idea  connected  with  the  monotheism  of 
the  Jews  —  such  as  King,  Judge,  Law- 
giver, Father  —  in  reference  to  which 
there  are  not  express  statements,  within 
the  Sacred  Books  of  the  nation,  caution- 
ing it  against  a  literal  application  of 
these  terms  to  the  Infinite.  The  prophets 
saw  their  inadequacy,  and  felt  their  pov- 
erty, while    they    used    them.      But    they 


232  ESSAYS  IiV  rillLOSOPHY. 

could  not  help  using  them.  They  could 
not  speak  to  the  mass  of  the  nation  in 
other  than  symbolic  language,  any  more 
than  the  leaders  of  the  Greek  schools 
could  have  dispensed  with  an  esoteric,  and 
made  the  crowds  in  the  agora  understand 
speculation  on  Being  in  the  abstract.  If 
we  are  to  speak  of  God  at  all  in  human 
words,  we  must  employ  the  inadequate 
medium  of  metaphoric  speech  ;  and  "jeal- 
ousy to  resist  metaphor"  does  not,  as 
Francis  Newman  says,  "testify  to  depth 
of  insight."  ^  In  their  horror  of  anthropo- 
morphism, ontologists  have  rarefied  their 
notion  of  the  ultimate  Principle  of  Exist- 
ence into  a  mere  abstraction,  a  blank 
formless  essence,  a  mere  vacuum.  But,  in 
making  free  use  of  anthropomorphic  lan- 
guage, we  know  that  it  is  of  necessity 
partial,  and  at  the  last  inadequate  ;  and  we 
exclude  from  our  notion  of  personality  — 
which  it  thus  imperfectly  describes  — 
every  anthropomorphic  feature  that  savors 
of    limitation,   while  we   retain   the    notion 

'  "  To  refuse  to  speak  of  God  as  loving  and  planning, 
as  grieving  and  sympatliizing,  without  tlie  protest  of  a 
quasi,  will  not  tend,"  he  adds,  "to  clearer  intellectual 
views  (for  what  can  be  darker  ?),  but  will  muddy  tlie 
spring-,  of  affection." — •  The  Soul,   p.   29. 


PEKSONALI 1  y  AND   THE  1  AT- 1 .\T  11: .     2  j3 

of    a   Being   who    is  pcrsoial   and  yet    ui- 
Jiiiitf. 

That  personality  cannot  coexist  with 
infinity  is  an  assumption  without  specu- 
lative warrant,  or  experiential  prcjof.  It 
may  be  essential  to  jjersonality  that  the 
person  "  thinks  and  loves,"  as  ^Ir.  Arnold 
puts  it.  But  arc  thought  and  emotion 
only  susceptible  of  finite  action,  and  ade- 
quate to  accomplish  finite  ends?  And,  if 
the  stream  to  which  they  give  rise  is  lim- 
ited, may  not  the  Fountain  whence  they 
flow  be  infinite  ?  Can  we  not  realize  the 
existence  of  a  Supreme  Personality,  within 
which  the  whole  Universe  lives,  moves, 
and  has  its  being  and  which  has  that  uni- 
verse as  an  area  in  which  to  manifest 
its  thought,  feeling,  and  purpose  ?  May 
not  the  intelligence,  traces  of  which  we 
see  everywhere  in  the  physical  order,  — 
the  purpose,  in  the  manifestation  of  which 
there  is  no  gap  or  chasm  anywhere,  —  be 
the  varying  index  of  an  omnipresent  Per- 
sonality ?  Into  thought  and  emotion  them- 
selves the  idea  of  restriction  does  not  en- 
ter ;  although,  whenever  they  appear  in 
special  acts  or  concrete  instances,  they  as- 
sume a  finite  form.      Thev  are  then  lim- 


234  £SSA  VS  IN  rillLOSOFIIY. 

ited  by  each  other,  and  by  their  opposites, 
as  well  as  by  every  specific  existence  in 
which  they  respectively  appear.  But  to 
themselves  in  the  abstract  the  idea  of 
limitation  no  more  appertains  than  it  is 
necessarily  bound  up  with  the  notion  of 
power  or  energy.  This,  however,  is  to  an- 
ticipate. 

We  are  deceived  when  we  carry  into 
the  realm  of  Nature  and  the  Infinite  the 
analogy  of  a  material  centre  and  a  physi- 
cal circumference,  by  which  our  own  per- 
sonality is  "cabined  and  confined."  To 
the  Infinite,  there  can  be  neither  centre 
nor  circumference ;  or  we  may  say  that 
the  centre  is  everywhere,  and  the  circum- 
ference nowhere.  But  if  the  attributes  of 
mind  or  intelligence  are  revealed  through- 
out the  whole  extent  of  the  universe  open 
to  our  inspection,  is  it  impossible  to  con- 
join with  the  notion  of  their  infinite  range 
the  idea  of  a  Person,  to  whom  they  be- 
long, in  wdiom  they  inhere,  and  of  whose 
essence  they  are  the  many-sided  manifes- 
tation .''  Is  there  any  greater  difficulty 
in  supposing  their  conjunction  over  the 
whole  universe  than  in  realizing  their 
coincidence    at   any    one  spot    within    it  '^. 


PKKSONALJrY  AND   THE  INI-IXITE.     235 

It  is  assuredly  not  the  mere  extent  of  the 
area  that  eonstitutes  the  difficulty  of  their 
union. 

We  thus  come  back  to  what  has,  in 
some  form  or  another,  lain  at  the  root 
of  every  theistic  argument.  Is  the  uni- 
verse in  any  sense  intelligible  ?  Can  it 
be  read,  understood,  and  interpreted  by  us 
at  all .''  or  does  it  present  an  "  untranslata- 
ble text,"  which  we  in  vain  attempt  to  de- 
cipher ?  When  we  say  that  phenomena 
are  organized,  what  do  we  mean  by  the 
statement  ?  When  we  speak  of  them  as 
correlated,  reciprocal,  ordered,  the  parts  of 
a  whole,  what  do  we  mean  by  these  terms.-' 
Are  we  projecting  our  own  thoughts  out- 
wards, on  the  face  of  external  nature  t  or 
are  we  engaged  in  deci{)hering  an  inscrip- 
tion that  is  written  there  ?  Surely,  in  the 
earliest  and  simplest  act  of  perception, 
distinguishing  one  phenomenon  from  an- 
other, we  recognize  the  presence  of  mind 
within  the  universe;  and  in  our  earliest 
knowledge  of  an  external  world,  we  have 
an  experience  suggesting  the  theistic  infer- 
ence. 

One  solution  of  the  problem  of  theism 
may  thus  be  found  in  the  answer  we  give 


236  ESSAYS  IN  r  HI  LOS  0  FN  v. 

to  the  question,  Are  we  warranted  in  in- 
terpreting the  universe  in  the  Ught  of  our 
own  intelligence  ?  We  are  accustomed 
to  think,  both  popularly  and  scientifically, 
that  we  know  something  of  Nature  ;  and 
we  codrdinate  our  knowledge  in  the  sev- 
eral sciences.  But  all  the  sciences  take 
for  granted  a  general  doctrine  of  the  know- 
able,  and  they  all  start  from  the  presup- 
position that  in  constructing  them  we  do 
not  merely  project  our  own  thought  into 
Nature,  but  discover  something  regard- 
ing natural  phenomena  themselves.  We 
speak  as  aimlessly  in  our  most  exact  and 
scientific  language  as  if  we  talked  at  ran- 
dom, if  we  do  not  find  thought  and  rea- 
son within  all  natural  phenomena,  as  their 
substrate,  their  essence,  or  their  presup- 
position. Even  if  we  assume  the  ?vle  of 
the  agnostic,  and  take  refuge  in  a  con- 
fession of  ignorance,  under  the  seeming 
modesty  which  disclaims  insight,  a  latent 
doctrine  of  knowledge  is  nevertheless  in- 
volved. If  we  hold  that  all  knowledge 
reaches  us  through  the  senses,  that  we 
can  attain  to  nothing  higher  than  "  trans- 
formed sensations,"  still  behind  this  theory 
of  the  origin  of  our  ideas  there  lies  an  un- 


PERSOXALITY  AMD   T/fE  I.V/-/X/T/-:.     237 

eliminable  element  which  transcends  it,  and 
which  is  unconsciously  taken  for  granted 
in  every  theoretical  explanation  of  things 
as  they  are.  If,  therefore,  mind  be  visible 
in  nature,  and  we  cannot  construe  a  sin- 
gle ])henomenon  or  group  of  phenomena 
otherwise  than  in  terms  of  intelligence, 
our  interpretation  is  not  the  result  of  un- 
conscious idealization.  It  is  the  discern- 
ment of  objective  reality,  and  is  also  the 
recognition  of  mind,  in  the  process  of  man- 
ifestation. 

Finding,  therefore,  the  signs  of  mind 
everywhere,  in  the  correlations  and  succes- 
sions of  phenomena,  may  we  not  interpret 
the  whole  series  as  the  manifestation  of  a 
personal  entity  underlying  it  ?  Of  a  mind 
that  is  impersonal  we  cannot  form  a  no- 
tion. Do  not  all  the  forms  of  finite  being, 
therefore,  —  the  specializations  of  existence 
and  the  successions  of  phenomena  —  lead 
to  the  conclusion  that  there  is  a  Supreme 
Essence  in  which  every  specialization  is 
blent,  a  whole  in  which  all  succession  is 
merged  .'*  Do  not  the  successive  parts  lead 
the  mind  to  a  "  unity,  where  no  division 
is.'"  And  if  we  thus  interpret  individual 
and  fragmentary  things  in  terms  of  intel- 


238  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

ligence,  surely  we  cannot  dispense  with 
Mind,  when  we  rise  to  that  supreme  unity 
in  which  variety  ceases,  and  multiplicity  is 
lost  to  view. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  we  do  not  know 
what  constitutes  the  inmost  essence  of  per- 
sonality, under  all  the  shifting  phases  of  ex- 
perience ;  and,  on  that  account,  there  is  an 
element  of  vagueness  attaching  to  the  idea. 
But  we  are  aware  that  our  own  identity 
or  self-hood  survives,  while  the  successive 
waves  of  experience  rise  and  fall ;  and,  it  is 
surely  quite  conceivable  that  the  eternal 
Essence  or  everlasting  Substance  of  the 
Universe  should  be  supremely  conscious  of 
self,  throughout  all  the  change  and  turmoil 
of  existence.  It  may  be  that  infinitude 
alone  supplies  the  condition  for  a  perfect 
consciousness  of  personality;  and  that  our 
finiteness,  as  Lotze  thinks,  is  "not  a  pro- 
ductive condition  of  personality,  but  rather 
a  hindering  barrier  to  its  perfect  develop- 
ment." ^  If  there  is  a  difficulty  in  thus 
conceiving  of  a  personality  which  can  dis- 
])cnse  with  a  non-ego,  as  the  condition  of  its 
activity,  —  which  does  not  necessarily  in- 
volve the  distinction  between  self  and  not- 

^  il/icrorostnui,  iii.  p.  37  ^ 


PERSONALITY  AXD  THE  INFIX  HE.     239 

self, — and  if,  in  consequence,  we  arc  un- 
able to  compress  our  belief  in  the  Divine 
I'ersonality  within  the  mould  of  a  loj^ical 
formula,  "let  it"  (as  Mr.  Gre,:;  says  of  the 
belief  in  immortality),  "let  it  rest  in  the 
vague,  if  you  would  have  it  rest  unshaken. 
It  is  maintainable  so  long  as  it  is  suffered 
to  remain  nebulous  and  unoutlined."  The 
very  grandeur  of  the  term  "God"  consists 
in  the  fact  that  it  includes  not  less,  but  so 
much  more,  than  any  specific  description 
could  embrace  within  it.  The  reality  sur- 
passes every  definition  of  it  ;  and  our  vari- 
ous theoretical  explanations  of  the  fact  — 
which  appeals  to  our  consciousness  in 
forms  so  manifold  —  are  just  so  many  ways 
by  which  we  successively  register  our  own 
imperfect  and  changeful  insight.  We  put 
into  intelligible  shape  a  conviction  which, 
the  moment  we  define  it,  is  felt  to  tran- 
scend our  definitions  immeasurably. 

But  are  our  definitions  ever  correct  .'  In 
answer  to  this  we  may  afifirm  that  they  arc 
accurate  so  far  as  they  go,  while  admittedly 
incomplete.  They  need  not  lay  claim  to 
be  either  final  or  exhaustive  of  that  which 
tiiey  endeavor  to  define.  i\t  the  very  best 
they  are  the  result  of    the  efforts  of   the 


240  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

reason  to  formulate  a  conviction  which  has 
several  distinct  roots,  and  assumes  many 
different  phases,  but  which  is  not  invari- 
able, or  steadily  luminous,  or  always  irre- 
sistible. From  the  very  nature  of  the  case, 
the  Divine  Personality  must  be  suggested, 
rather  than  evidenced  with  indubitable 
force  ;  and  if  we  can,  by  reason,  scatter 
the  a  priori  difficulties  which  seem  to 
gather  round  the  notion  itself,  it  may  be 
left  to  the  workings  of  intuition  to  reveal 
the  positive  fact,  a  posteriori,  in  the  flash 
of  occasional  inspiration.  If  the  Divine 
Presence  were  obtruded  upon  the  inward 
eye,  as  material  objects  appeal  to  the  sense 
of  sight,  the  faculties  which  recognize  it 
would  be  dazzled,  and  unable  to  note  or 
register  anything  besides.  Our  recogni- 
tion of  God  must  therefore  be  casual,  fugi- 
tive, occasional,  to  leave  room  for  our  know- 
ledge of,  and  our  relation  to,  other  things. 
Were  it  continuous  and  uniform,  it  would 
sink  to  the  level  of  our  consciousness  of 
finite  things  and  material  existence.  Pcr- 
liaps,  in  its  very  fugitivencss  and  transiency 
there  may  be  evidence  of  its  divineness; 
and  that  there  should  be  endless  discussion, 
and  the  perpetual   shock  of  controversv  in 


J'ERSONAIJTY  AND   rilE  INI-IXITI:.     24 1 

regard  to  it,  it  is  only  to  be  expected.  If 
the  aspects  under  whicli  the  Infinite  is  re- 
vealed vary  perpetually,  if  He  at  once  sur- 
rounds and  pervades  lis,  yet  withdraws  from 
our  gaze,  the  everlasting  controversy  of  the 
ages,  and  the  rise  and  fall  of  systems  which 
now  assert  and  now  dispense  with  his  pres- 
ence, are  most  easily  explained.  The  i^r- 
jietual  resuscitation  of  debate  (after  solu- 
tions have  been  advanced  by  the  score)  is 
proof  of  the  working  of  an  instinct  which 
rises  higher  than  the  proofs  themselves. 
'I'hcy  are,  all  of  them,  —  the  ontological, 
cosmological,  teleological,  and  the  rest,  — 
merely  historical  memorials  of  the  efforts 
of  the  human  mind  to  vindicate  to  itself  the 
exist C71CC  of  a  reality  of  ivJiich  it  is  conscious, 
but  10/iich  it  cannot  perfectly  define.  In  their 
eompletest  forms,  they  are  the  result  of  the 
activity  of  the  reason  and  the  conscience 
combined,  to  account  for  that  reality,  and 
to  define  it  to  others. 

That  our  consciousness  of  the  Divine 
Personality  is  often  dormant  says  nothing 
against  its  genuineness  or  trustworthiness, 
when  stirred  to  life.  It  rather  tells  the 
other  way.  What  is  ceaselessly  obtruded 
on  our  notice  is  not  more  true,  by  reason 


242  £SSAyS  TN  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  its  obviousness,  than  what  is  flashed 
upon  us  in  moments  of  transient  ecstasy  or 
insight.  We  are  not  always  on  the  moun- 
tain-tops ;  nor  can  we  breathe  the  ethereal 
air  forever,  or  live  in  the  white  light  of  a 
never-ceasing  apocalypse.  But  these  are 
surely  the  supreme  moments  of  discern- 
ment. Could  any  one  rationally  affirm 
that  the  dull  flats  of  mental  life  —  in  which 
our  powers  are  arrested  and  distracted  by 
a  multiplicity  of  objects  surrounding  them, 
our  thoughts  embarrassed  by  contingency 
and  change  —  are  more  significant  of  the 
truth  of  things  than  those  in  which  our 
faculties  are  kindled  into  life  by  the  sense 
of  a  stupendous  Presence  appealing  to  them, 
and  yet  concealing  itself  from  their  scru- 
tiny ?  Nor  will  the  general  consciousness 
of  the  race  admit  that  the  later  are  times 
of  mere  idealistic  trance  and  poetic  illu- 
sion. Rather  are  they  times  of  inspiration, 
in  which  we  see  beyond  appearances,  and 
beneajth  all  semblance,  into  the  inner  life 
of  things. 

The  question  has  so  many  sides  that, 
at  the  risk  of  some  repetition,  it  may  be 
restated  thus  :  It  is  said  that  limitation  is 
involved    in  all    activitv.  and    that,  if    there 


PERSOXALITY  AND  THE  LXFINITE.     24.5 

be  an  infinite  Personality,  it  is  doomed 
to  everlasting  repose,  without  act  or  si,:^n 
of  energy;  for  to  act  is  to  be  limited  by 
the  conditions  of  activity.  Thus  each  spe- 
cific mode  of  energy  which  takes  shape 
in  a  determinate  form  is,  ipso  facto,  cur- 
tailed. Power  emerging  from  its  latent 
state,  and  sJunvim:;  itself  on  the  theatre  of 
finite  existence,  limits  itself,  by  its  very 
relation,  to  the  things  on  which  it  oper- 
ates. Therefore  it  is  only  the  indetermi- 
nate that  can  be  unlimited  and  infinite. 
This  is  the  dilTiculty. 

But,  in  the  first  place,  is  not  power  in  its 
latent  state — i.e.,  unmanifestcd,  or  spe- 
cialized in  a  concrete  form  —  more  limited 
in  its  retirement,  and  hampered  by  its  se- 
clusion, than  it  would  be  in  its  energy  and 
activity  }  Character  is  not  limited  by  the 
special  acts  in  which  it  is  revealed.  On 
the  contrary,  the  more  varied  its  features, 
the  greater  and  fuller  is  the  character.  It 
is  not  the  absence  of  definite  characteristics 
that  proves  one  human  nature  to  be  richer 
than  another,  but  their  number,  their  inten- 
sity, their  manifoldness,  and  their  range. 

In    the    second    place,    a   limit   may  be 
self-imposed  ;  and    if    so,   it  is  simply  one 


244  £SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  the  conditions  under  which  alone  power 
can  manifest  itself.  Resistance  reveals 
power,  by  giving  an  opportunity  for  en- 
ergy to  overcome  the  barrier.  Power  un- 
resisted is  power  unmanifested,  and  may 
be  conceived  of  as  latent  heat  ;  but  it  is 
the  presence  of  some  obstacle  to  be  over- 
come which  shows  the  power  of  that 
which  subdues  it,  in  the  very  act  of  yield- 
ing and  being  overthrown.  It  may  be 
conceded  that  whenever  power  is  exer- 
cised, and  issues  in  a  definite  act,  it  is 
limited  by  its  relation  to  other  acts.  It 
immediately  becomes  one  of  the  million 
links,  in  the  chain  of  finite  things.  But 
the  fountain-head  of  energy,  whence  the 
act  has  come  forth  to  play  its  part  in  the 
theatre  of  existence,  is  unaffected  by  that 
limitation.  In  short,  the  act  may  be  lim- 
ited, while  the  Agent  is  not. 

In  the  third  place,  the  actual  conditions 
under  which  we  live,  and  under  which  our 
personality  works,  prove  that  the  existence 
of  a  barrier  in  some  directions  enlarges, 
deepens,  and  widens  our  personality  in 
others  (take,  for  example,  the  limitation 
or  restriction  involved  in  all  duty).  And 
this  enlargement  is  not   due  merely  to  the 


I'hRSOiVAI.l  lY  AN  J)    Till:   INFJM 1 1:.     245 

law  of  comj)cn.sati()n,  and  to  the  fact  that 
what  is  lost  on  one  side  is  gained  on 
another ;  but  it  is  because,  without  the 
limit  or  the  constraint,  the  highest  form 
of  activity  could  not  possibly  exist. 

Perhaps,  however,  the  main  speculative 
difficulty  is  experienced,  not  when  we 
attempt  to  construe  to  our  minds  the  ex- 
istence of  the  Divine  Personality  alone, 
but  when  wc  try  to  conceive  it  in  its  re- 
lation to  humanity  ;  when  we  endeavor, 
in  fact,  to  realize  the  coexistence  of  the 
Infinite  with  the  finite.  So  long  as  we 
think  only  of  the  Infinite,  there  is  no  logi- 
cal puzzle,  and  the  intellectually  consis- 
tent scheme  of  pantheism  emerges  ;  so 
long,  again,  as  we  think  only  of  the  finite, 
there  is  no  dilemma,  though  we  seem 
locked  in  the  embrace  of  an  atheistic  sys- 
tem. But  try  to  combine  the  infinite  with 
the  finite  —  the  former  being  not  the  mere 
expansion  of  the  latter,  but  its  direct  ne- 
gation—  and,  in  the  dualism  which  their 
union  forces  upon  us,  a  grave  difficulty 
seems  to  lurk.  What  relation  do  the  innu- 
merable creatures  that  exist  bear  to  the 
all-surrounding  and  all-pervading  Essence.'* 
It  cannot   be   similar   to   that  which    the 


246  ESSAYS   nv  PHILOSOPHY. 

planets  bear  to  the  siin,  round  which  they 
revolve  ;  for  the  sun  is  only  a  vaster  finite, 
like  its  satellites  :  and  God  -}-  the  universe 
is  not  a  sum  of  being,  equivalent  to  that 
of  the  sun  +  the  planetary  bodies.  How, 
then,  can  there  be  two  substances,  a  finite 
and  an  infinite  ?  Does  not  the  latter 
necessarily  quench  the  former  by  its  very 
presence  ?  As  a  child  of  four  years  once 
put  it  to  me,  "  If  God  is  everywhere,  how 
is  there  any  room  for  us  ?  " 

We  must  admit  that  if  God  be  "  the 
sum  of  all  reality"  (as  the  Eleatics,  the 
later  Platonists,  Erigena,  Spinoza,  and 
Hegel  have  maintained),  then,  since  we  are 
a  part  of  that  sum,  wc  are  necessarily  in- 
cluded wiihin  the  Divine  Essence.  Fur- 
ther, if  there  be  but  one  substance  in  the 
universe,  and  all  the  phenomena  of  the 
human  consciousness,  together  with  those 
of  the  external  world,  are  but  the  varying 
phases  which  that  single  reality  assumes ; 
then,  it  matters  not  what  we  call  it,  —  a 
force,  a  cause,  a  person,  a  substance,  a  life, 
God,  —  all  that  is,  is  of  it.  This  is  the  pan- 
theistic solution  of  the  problem,  which  has 
fascinated  so  many  of  the  subtlest  minds. 
It  has,  of  course,  been  met  by  the  doctrine 


rEKSONALIlY  AA'D   ////•   JNFIXITE.      247 

of  creation  in  time,  or  the  orij^jination  of 
finite  existence  at  a  particular  instant  by 
the  fiat  of  a  Creator.  Many  believe  that 
this  doctrine  is  essential  to  theism,  and 
are  afraid  that  if  we  allow  a  perpetual  cos- 
mos, we  must  dispense  with  an  eternal 
God,  except  as  an  opifcx  viuiidi ;  that  if  we 
do  not  affirm  the  origin  of  the  universe 
ex  nihil 0,  we  are  unable  to  maintain  the 
separatencss  of  God  from  it,  and  his  tran- 
scendency. 

I  see  no  warrant  for  this.  To  affirm 
that  without  an  absolute  start  of  existence 
out  of  blank  nonentity  into  manifested 
being,  we  have  no  evidence  of  God  at  all, 
or  only  the  signs  of  an  eternally  hampered 
Deity, — a  mere  supplement  to  the  sum  of 
existence,  —  is  altogether  illegitimate.  For 
the  evidence  of  Divine  action  would  then 
be  dependent  on  the  signs  of  past  effort,  or 
the  occurrence  of  some  stupendous  stroke, 
crisis,  or  burst  of  energy.  Why  may  not 
the  story  of  the  universe  be  rather  inter- 
preted as  the  everlastiiii^  ^ff<-'^'^  ^^f  '^^^  eternal 
Cause  ^  Do  we  need  an  origin  in  time,  if 
we  have  a  perpetual  genesis,  or  a  cease- 
less becoming,  coeval  with  the  everlasting 
cause  .'     Which  is  the  grander,  which  the 


248  liSSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

more  realizable  notion,  to  suppose  Nature 
at  one  moment  non-existent,  and  the  next 
"flashed  into  material  reality  at  the  fiat  of 
Deity;"  or  to  suppose  it  eternally  plastic 
under  the  power  of  an  Artificer,  who  is 
perpetually  fashioning  it,  through  all  the 
cycles  of  progressive  change  ?  It  is  not 
the  actual  entrance  or  the  possible  exit  of 
existence  that  we  have  to  explain,  but  its 
manipulations,  the  rise  of  organizations  and 
their  decay,  the  evolution  and  succession 
of  varied  types  of  life ;  and  it  is  precisely 
these  which  attest  the  presence  of  an  in- 
dwelling and  immediately  acting  God. 

Dualism,  therefore,  finds  its  speculative 
warrant,  not  in  any  assumed  act  of  crea- 
tion, but  in  the  eternal  necessities  of  the 
case,  in  the  double  element  involved  in  all 
knowledge,  and  such  experiential  facts  as 
those  of  sense  -  perception  and  intuition 
generally. 

To  get  rid  of  the  dualism  of  monothe- 
istic theory,  which  seemed  to  him  to  limit 
the  Infinite,  Spinoza  adopted  the  old  mo- 
nistic position;  holding  God  and  nature  to 
be  but  the  eternal  cause  and  the  everlast- 
ing effect,  natura  natnrans  and  natnra 
jiaturata.     This  theory,    however,    affords 


PERSONALITY  AiXD   THE  IXFINl  1  !■ .      249 

110  oxphuiation  of  how  the  miiul  of  nuui 
blossoms  into  a  consciousness  of  tiic  Infi- 
nite, of  how  the  finite  i<nower  reaches  his 
conception  of  the  Infinite  ;  because,  ac- 
cording to  the  theory,  all  that  is  reached 
by  the  mind  of  the  knower  is  itself  a  de- 
velopment of  the  infinite.  The  psychologi- 
cal act  of  recognition  is  itself  only  a  wave 
on  the  sea  of  existence.  Dualism  explains 
the  a{)prehension  of  the  one  by  the  other, 
in  its  affirmation  that  all  our  knowledge 
is  obtained  under  the  conditions  of  con- 
trast and  difference,  and  thus  reaches  us 
in  pairs  of  opposites.  It  does  not  affirm 
that,  in  order  to  the  consciousness  of  per- 
sonality in  the  Infinite,  there  must  of  ne- 
cessity be  a  recognition  of  self  and  not- 
self,  of  self  and  the  universe  ;  but  it  alarms 
that  to  the  finite  knower  it  must  be  so  ; 
that  to  him  subject  implies  object,  and  the 
ego  the  noji-ego ;  that  the  two  are  given 
together,  and  are  realizable  only  in  union. 
On  every  monistic  theory  of  the  uni- 
verse, however,  the  question,  "Where  is 
God  to  be  found  ? "  is  meaningless.  A 
"  search  for  God "  is  a  contradiction  in 
terms  ;  because  the  seeker  and  the  search, 
the  quest  and  the  qiLc^sitor  and  the  quccsi- 


250  ESSAYS  /A'   PHILOSOFJIY. 

Ucm,  are  all  manifestations  of  one  and  the 
same  substance.  Dualism  is  involved  in 
the  very  notion  of  a  search. 

Further,  to  take  for  granted  that  the 
Infinite  is  that  which  quenches  the  finite, 
which  abolishes  and  absorbs  it,  is  to  beg 
the  whole  question  in  debate.  This  super- 
session of  the  finite  by  the  Infinite  is 
speculatively  as  illegitimate  as  is  the 
acosmism  of  Spinoza.  It  is  true  that  we 
reach  the  idea  of  the  infinite  by  removing 
the  finite  out  of  the  way.  But  then  the  act 
of  exclusion  or  absorption,  being  an  act 
of  thought,  constitutes  one  term  of  a  re- 
lation. If  we  can  think  of  the  infinite 
at  all,  we  have  a  mental  concept  which 
stands  contrasted  with  that  of  the  finite, 
and  thus  again  dualism  emerges.  Al- 
though our  conception  of  the  infinite  is 
reached  by  the  abolition  of  the  finite,  it 
does  not  follow  that  if  an  Infinite  Being 
exists,  the  finite  can  coexist  with  it.  For, 
the  latter  is  not  only  given  as  a  prior  fact 
of  consciousness,  but,  when  we  proceed 
to  eliminate  it,  the  act  of  thinking  it  away, 
being  finite,  supplies  us  with  the  unelim- 
inable  element  of  dualistic  relation  and 
difference.     Further,  if  it  be  true  that  to 


PERSOXALITY  AND    7I/K  /XF/X/n-..     25  I 

predicate  anything  whatever  of  the  infi- 
nite is  to  assign  a  limit  to  it,  —  if  the 
maxim  oiiinis  dctcri)ii)iatio  est  ncgatio  be 
sountl, — then  the  infinite  has  to  the  hu- 
man mind  no  definite  meaning  whatso- 
ever. It  is  not  distinguishable  from  the 
non-existent  ;  and  the  conclusion,  "  being 
=  nothing,"  is  reached.  Hegel  himself 
admits  that  "abstract  supersensible  es- 
sence, void  of  all  difference  and  all  specific 
character,  is  a  mere  caput  mortninn  of  the 
abstract  understanding."  ^  But  on  what 
principle  are  we  debarred  from  claiming 
for  the  Infinite  Essence,  simply  because 
of  its  infinity,  all  possible,  all  conceivable 
predicates,  and  therefore  the  power  of  re- 
vealing itself  to  the  finite  knower.  To 
affirm  the  opposite  is  not  to  limit  us  alone, 
it  is  to  limit  the  Infinite  by  denying  its 
power  of  self-manifestation. 

In  all  thought  and  consciousness  dualism 
emerges  because  there  is  invariably  a  sub- 
ject and  an  object,  a  knower  and  a  thing 
known.  But  do  these  limit  each  other.' 
How  so  .'  We  know  in  part ;  but  the  ob- 
ject we  discern  may  be  recognized  by  us 
as  infinite,  in  the  very  act  of  knowing  it  in 

1  Loi;ic\  ^  \\z. 


252  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

part.  We  may  be  aware  that  what  we  ap- 
prehend transcends,  in  its  inmost  nature, 
our  apprehension  of  it ;  while  the  latter 
fact  does  not  abolish  the  former,  or  reduce 
our  supposed  knowledge  to  ignorance. 
While,  therefore,  all  knowledge  enters  the 
mind  under  dualistic  conditions,  this  psy- 
chological fact  does  not  relegate  the  object 
known  by  us  to  the  category  of  the  finite, 
or  prevent  the  direct  knowledge  of  God  in 
his  infinity  and  transcendency.  Nor  does 
it  follow  that,  with  a  double  element  in  all 
cognition,  one  of  the  two  must  be  positive 
and  the  other  negative,  as  some  of  the  ad- 
vocates of  nescience  contend.  They  may 
both  be  equally  positive  and  negative,  since 
each  is  antithetic  of  the  other,  and  is  nev- 
ertheless its  supporting  background  in  the 
field  of  consciousness.  One  of  the  two 
may  be  prominent  at  a  particular  moment, 
but  the  other  is  invariably  present  behind 
it,  giving  it  form  and  character.  In  other 
words,  the  relativity  of  human  apprehen- 
sion does  not  cut  us  off  from  a  direct  and 
positive  knowledge  of  the  Infinite.  As  it 
is  admirably  put  by  Dr.  Martineau,  "We  ad- 
mit the  relative  character  of  human  thought 


J'EKSONAL/TY  AND   THE  INFINirE.     253 

as  a  })sycho]o<;ical  fact  :  we  deny  it  as  an 
ontological  disqualification."  ^ 

The  most  direct  sug^^cstions  of  per- 
sonality in  alliance  with  infinity  reach  us 
through  the  channel  of  the  moral  faculty. 
They  are  disclosed  in  the  phenomena  of 
conscience,  and  also  of  affection. 

Before  indicating  how  these  suggestions 
arise,  I  return  to  the  teaching  of  Mr.  Ar- 
nold on  the  subject.  He  has  made  us  all 
so  much  his  debtors  by  the  light  he  has 
cast  on  sundry  historical  problems,  and  his 
rare  literary  skill  in  handling  these,  that 
any  critic  of  his  work,  who  differs  from 
him  on  so  radical  a  point  as  the  nature  of 
God,  finds  the  task  neither  easy  nor  con- 
genial. In  addition  to  the  obscurity  which 
the  subject  itself  presents,  there  is  a  spe- 
cial difficulty  in  adequately  estimating  a 
writer,  whose  criticism  is  on  most  points 
so  true,  so  subtle,  and  profound. 

Admiration,  however,  is  one  thing  ;  as- 
sent is  another.  I\Ir.  Arnold  wishes  us  to 
use  the  Bible  fruitfully,  and  his  contribu- 
tions to  its  fruitful  use  have  been  neither 
few  nor  slight.  Nevertheless,  in  his  attack 
on  what  he  terms  the  "  God  of  metaphys- 

^  Essays  Piitlosophiial  a>id  Thccio-^ical^  p.  z''~,\. 


254  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

ics,"  in  his  elaborate  critical  assault  — 
lacking  neither  in  "vigor  nor  in  rigor"  — 
on  the  notion  of  Personality  in  God,  he  re- 
moves, as  it  seems  to  me,  the  very  basis  of 
theology  ;  and  the  whole  superstructure  of 
the  science  becomes  fantastic  and  unreal. 
He  is  sanguine  of  laying  the  basis  of  a 
"religion  more  serious,  potent,  awe-inspir- 
ing, and  profound  than  any  which  the 
world  has  yet  seen  "  (p.  109),  but  he  builds 
it  on  the  ruins  of  the  theistic  philosophy 
of  the  past.  The  latter  must  in  the  first 
instance  be  leveled  with  the  ground,  and 
the  debris  removed.  We  are  to  find  "  the 
elements  of  a  religion  —  new,  indeed,  but 
in  the  highest  degree  hopeful,  solemn,  and 
profound  "  (p.  109)  —  only  when  we  re- 
nounce the  delusion  that  *'  God  is  a  per- 
son who  thinks  and  loves,"  regarding  it  as 
a  "  fairy  tale,"  as  "figure  and  personifica- 
tion," and  of  the  same  scientific  value  as 
the  personification  of  the  sun  or  the  wind. 
Religion,  however,  being  the  expression 
of  dependence,  involves  and  carries  with 
it  the  recognition  of  an  Object  on  whom 
the  worshiper  depends  ;  and,  as  he  is  per- 
sonal, and  his  personality  is  most  dis- 
tinctly evinced  in  his  religion,  the  Object 


PERSOA'AL/TY  AA'D   THE  INFINITE.     255 

on  whom  he  depends,  and  whom  he  rec- 
ognizes, must  be  personal  also.  Without 
personality  —  or  its  archetype  and  ana- 
lofTue  —  in  God,  reliirion  is  reduced  to  a 
poetic  thrill  or  _<;low  of  emotion.  If  recog- 
nition is  absent  from  it,  it  is  not  only  blind 
and  deaf  and  dumb,  it  is  also  inarticulate 
and  vague.  But,  as  was  happily  said  of 
the  system  of  Comte,  "the  wine  of  the 
real  presence  being  poured  out,"  we  are 
asked  "to  adore  the  empty  cup." 

The  readers  of  Mr.  Arnold  do  not  need 
to  be  told  that  Speculative  Philosophy  — 
in  the  grand  historic  use  and  wont  of  the 
term  —  is  to  him  a  barren  region,  void  of 
all  human  interest  ;  and  that  intellectual 
travel  over  it  is  pronounced  by  him  to  be 
resultlcss.  His  dismissal  of  the  metaphys- 
ical arguments  for  Divine  Personality, 
"with  sheer  satisfaction"  "because  they 
have  convinced  no  one,  have  given  rest  to 
no  one,  have  given  joy  to  no  one,  nay,  no 
one  has  even  really  understood  them " 
(pp.  104,  105),  is  curious  as  coming  from  so 
distinguished  an  advocate  of  rich  and 
many-sided  culture.  Curious,  —  when  one 
remembers  that  from  the  schools  of  Spec- 
ulative   Philosophy    all     the    great    move- 


256  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

ments  of  opinion  in  other  departments 
have  originally  sprung,  and  that  every 
question  raised  in  these  departments  must 
ultimately  run  up  into  the  region  of  meta- 
physic.  On  a  first  perusal  of  Mr.  Arnold's 
delightful  papers,  one  feels  that  he  is  being 
led,  by  the  most  charming  of  guides,  into 
the  regions  of  light  and  of  certitude.  By 
and  by  he  finds  that  his  guide  is  an  army- 
leader,  who  intends  "  boldly  to  carry  the 
war  into  the  enemy's  country,  and  see  how 
many  strong  fortresses  of  the  metaphysi- 
cians he  can  enter  and  rifle"  (p.  96).  He 
becomes  the  general  in  a  new  crusade 
against  our  English  notions  about  God, 
our  crass  metaphysics,  and  our  unverifiable 
theology,  and  would  prepare  the  way  for  a 
"religion  more  serious,  potent,  awe-inspir- 
ing, and  profound  than  any  which  the  world 
has  yet  seen  "  by  first  cleverly  chaffing  the 
old  philosophy  out  of  the  way. 

But  this  disparagement  of  the  whole  re- 
gion of  metaphysic,  because  it  deals  with 
the  questions  of  "being"  and  "essence," 
is  not  so  surprising  as  is  Mr.  Arnold's  at- 
tempt to  find,  in  the  simple  etymology  of 
words,  a  clue  to  tlie  mysteries  which  baffle 
the   ontologist.      In    this    investigation,   in- 


PERSONALITY  A  AD    THE   JNEINITE.     2$  J 

tercsting  as  it  is,  he  has  started  on  a 
journey  which  ends  in  a  cu/  dc  sac.  To 
discover  the  origin  of  the  terms  Being,  Es- 
sence, Substance,  by  getting  hold  of  the 
primitive  Aryan  root  whence  the  Greek, 
Latin,  I'Ycnch,  or  Enghsh  words  have  been 
derived,  will  not  help  us  in  the  inquiry 
which  concerns  the  origin  of  the  ideas  ex- 
pressed by  these  terms.  Abstracta  ex  con- 
crctis  may  be  the  law  of  linguistic  deriva- 
tion ;  and,  by  etymological  study,  we  may 
learn  how  the  human  race  has  come  to 
make  use  of  certain  terms,  and  to  attach 
particular  meanings  to  them.  In  following 
the  course  of  the  ancient  river  of  linguis- 
tic affinity,  we  may  trace  the  process  by 
which  the  notions  of  movement,  growth, 
and  permanence  have  possibly  grown  out 
of  the  "breathe,"  "grow,"  and  "stand"  of 
the  old  Aryan  root.  But  the  most  exact 
knowledge  of  the  subtlest  windings  of  this 
river  will  not  solve,  will  not  even  give  us 
the  materials  for  solving,  the  ulterior  ques- 
tion, whether  the  human  mind  has  imagi- 
natively transformed  the  concrete  into  the 
abstract,  or  has  been  all  the  while  inter- 
preting to  itself  an  objective  reality. 

"By  a  simi)le  figure,"  says  Mr.  Arnold, 


258  /■:SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

"  these  terms  declare  a  perceived  energy 
and  operation,  nothing  more.  Of  a  sub- 
ject, that  performs  this  operation,  they  tell 
us  nothing"  (p.  82).  These  "  primitives  " 
have  been  "falsely  supposed  to  bring  us 
news  about  the  primal  nature  of  things,  to 
declare  a  subject  in  which  inhered  the  en- 
ergy and  operation  we  had  noticed,  to  indi- 
cate a  fontal  category,  or  supreme  consti- 
tutive condition,  into  which  the  nature  of 
all  things  whatsoever  might  be  finally  run 
up  "  (p.  82).  No  one,  so  far  as  I  am  aware, 
has  maintained  this,  as  Mr.  Arnold  puts  it. 
Let  it  be  conceded  that  our  abstract  terms 
arose  out  of  concretes ;  that,  as  acts  of  j^er- 
ception  must  have  preceded  the  processes 
of  generalization  in  the  race  (as  they  pre- 
cede them  in  the  experience  of  each  indi- 
vidual), the  words  employed  to  express 
abstract  ideas  were  first  used  to  describe 
individual  or  concrete  things  ;  and  that, 
the  etymological  research,  which  unravels 
for  us  the  intricate  processes  of  growth, 
adaptation,  and  change,  in  the  t/s^/s  lo- 
qiicndi  of  terms,  is  one  of  the  most  fruitful 
branches  of  inquiry.  But,  supposing  the 
entire  course  of  linguistic  development 
traced  for  us  by  an  unerring  hand,  and  in 


riR.\o.\Ai.nY  A.\D  nil:  lxflxiti:.    259 

precise  scientific  detail,  tiie  whc^lc  question 
will  rcenier^^e,  and  confront  us  as  before, 
What  has  the  human  mind  really  done,  in 
making  use  of  these  concrete  terms  to  ex- 
press its  abstract  notions  ?  To  express 
them  at  all,  it  must  use  sovic  word  ;  and 
that  it  selects  one,  which  originally  de- 
scribed an  individual  or  concrete  thing, 
tells  nothing  against  the  fact  that  it  is  now 
able  to  abstract  from  these  particulars,  and 
to  describe,  by  means  of  the  adopted  term, 
ideas  which  haxc  not  entered  the  mind  by 
the  gateway  of  the  senses. 

Mr.  Arnold  speaks  of  the  words  "is" 
and  "  be  "  as  "  mysterious  petrifactions 
which  remain  in  language  as  if  they  were 
autochthons  there,  as  if  no  one  could  go 
beyond  them  or  behind  them.  Without 
father,  without  mother,  without  descent,  as 
it  seemed,  they  yet  are  omnipresent  in  our 
speech,  and  indispensable"  (p.  83) ;  whereas 
he  has  shown  that  the  terms  really  arose 
out  of  our  sense-experience  of  concrete 
things.  Let  us  suppose  that  he  is  correct 
in  his  account  of  the  process  by  which  the 
product  has  been  reached.  He  merely  ex- 
hibits to  us  a  genealogical  chart,  or  tree 
of  derivation.     A  out  of  R,  1^  out  of  C,  C 


26o  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

out  of  X.  But  the  real  question  lies  be- 
hind the  genealogy.  We  may  imagine  our 
Aryan  forefathers,  in  their  infantile  gaze 
over  the  ever-changing  world  of  phenom- 
ena, describing  what  met  the  eye  and  ear 
and  senses  generally,  by  certain  words, 
mostly  imitative  of  the  sounds  of  nature. 
Then,  as  their  intelligence  grew  — with  the 
repetition  of  the  old,  and  the  occurrence 
of  new  experience,  — if  they  wished  to  ex- 
press the  notion  of  a  thing  existing,  they 
made  use  of  a  term  which  they  had  previ- 
ously used  to  describe  its  operation,  viz., 
"breathing."  Were  this  statement  of  the 
origin  and  prehistoric  use  of  abstract  terms 
found  to  be  correct,  —  a  point  which  must 
be  determined  by  specialists  in  the  domain 
of  archaic  etymology,  —  the  investigation 
would  not  have  guided  us  one  step  towards 
the  solution  of  the  graver  problem,  as  to 
the  origin  of  the  ideas  with  which  the  terms 
deal.  We  would  have  been  merely  moving 
on  the  surface-plane  of  phenomenal  succ(A- 
sion,  and  the  most  accurate  account  of  that 
process  would  no  more  explain  the  source 
of  the  ideas  to  which  the  mind  has  affixed 
the  old  terms,  than  the  discovery  of  all  the 
links  of  a  chain  would  explain  its  origin 
or  method  of  construction. 


PERSOMALITY  AND   TJIE  INFIMTE.     26 1 

Mr.  Arnold  would  persuade  us  that,  be- 
cause the  terms  which  now  descrilc  our 
abstract  categories  were  orii^inally  used  to 
describe  objects  known  by  sense-jx'rcep- 
tion,  tlie  ideas  came  in  also  by  that  outward 
gateway.  Is  it  not  a  better  explanation  of 
these  "mysterious  petrifactions,"  is  and  be, 
that  the  notions  which  they  represent,  the 
categories  which  they  describe,  are  them- 
selves autochthons  in  the  human  mind  ; 
and  that  they  spring  up  out  of  the  soil  of 
consciousness,  whenever  that  soil  is  made 
ready  for  their  growth,  by  the  scantiest  in- 
tellectual husbandry  .''  Indigenous  to  the 
spirit  of  man,  — though  latent  in  its  inmost 
substance  till  evolved  by  the  struggle  of 
mind  with  its  environment,  —  it  is  not  sur- 
l")rising  that  in  afterwards  naming  them, 
the  simple  words,  once  used  to  describe 
the  operations  of  nature,  or  of  man,  should 
be  invested  with  new  meanings  ;  or  that  in 
the  course  of  ages  they  should  have  broad- 
ened out  into  general  and  abstract  terms. 

But  if  neither  the  etymology  of  jiarticu- 
lar  words,  nor  a  study  of  the  origin  and 
growth  of  language,  affords  us  any  help  in 
determining  the  origin  of  our  ideas,  it  is 
equally  certain  that  no  knowledge  of  "pre- 


262  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

historic  man  "  can  aid  us  in  solving  that 
ulterior  question.  Suppose  it  proved  that 
man  has  arisen,  in  the  long  struggle  for 
existence,  out  of  elements  inferior  to  him- 
self, and  that  his  present  beliefs  have  been 
evolved  out  of  lower  phases  of  thought  and 
feeling,  this  proof  will  not  determine  —  it 
will  not  even  touch — the  problem  of  the 
reality  of  that  existence,  to  which  the 
])resent  beliefs  of  the  race  bear  witness. 
The  question  of  chief  interest  is  not  the 
genealogical  one,  of  how  we  have  come  to 
be  endowed  with  these  beliefs,  but  the 
metaphysical  one,  of  their  present  validity 
to  the  individual  and  to  the  species.  Are 
they,  as  they  now  exist,  competent  wit- 
nesses to  an  outstanding  fact  and  an  abid- 
ing reality  .-*  It  matters  little  how  a  be- 
lief has  been  reached,  if  its  final  verdict  be 
true  ;  and  the  method  of  its  development 
casts  no  light  on  the  intrinsic  character, 
or  the  trustworthiness  of  its  attestations. 
The  evolution  of  organic  existence  out  of 
the  inorganic,  and  of  the  rational  out  of  the 
organic  —  supposing  it  scientifically  dem- 
onstrated, and  every  missing  link  in  the 
chain  of  derivation  supplied  —  would  only 
tell  us  of  a  law,  or  method,  or  process  of 


PERSONALITY  AXD   THE  /XE/X/fE.     263 

becoming.  It  would  give  us  no  informa- 
tion as  to  the  nature  of  the  I'\)untain-hca(I, 
out  of  wiiich  the  stream  oi  development 
has  flowed,  and  is  flowing  now.  What  has 
been  evolved,  in  the  slow  uprise  and  growth 
of  innumerable  ages,  is  the  outcome  of  an 

I'.ternal  [irocess  moving  on 

in  lines  of  continuous  succession,  —  an 
ever-advancing  stream  of  j)hysical,  intellec- 
tual, and  moral  tendency,  liut  the  ques- 
tion remains,  Is  this  onward  movement  a 
real  advance  .<*  Is  it  progressive,  as  well  as 
successive.'*  Are  the  later  conceptions  of 
the  universe  —  which  have  been  developed 
out  of  the  guesses  of  primeval  men  —  really 
"higher,"  because  more  accurate,  interpre- 
tations of  the  reality  of  things  .■'  Or,  is  the 
whole  scries  of  notions  from  first  to  last  an 
illusory  process  of  idealization  and  person- 
ification, and  therefore  mere  conjecture 
and  guess-work  .-*  Grant  that  theology  has 
grown  out  of  nature-worship  ;  has  the 
growth  been  a  progressive,  and  progres- 
sively accurate,  interpretation  of  what  is.'' 
If  the  conception  of  a  spiritual  Presence 
has  emerged  out  of  the  animal  sensations 
of  childhood,  and  the  subtlest  analyses  of 


264  ASSAYS  IN  FHILOSOPhY. 

our  Western  theology  have  sprung  out  of 
the  fantastic  notions  of  primitive  religion, 
the  question  of  absorbing  interest  lies  be- 
hind this,  and  is  altogether  unaffected  by 
it.  That  question  is,  —  Are  our  present 
adult  notions  like  a  mirage  in  the  desert, 
or  like 

The  clouds  that  gather  round  the  setting  sun, 

half  the  glory  of  which  lies  in  the  change- 
fulness  of  their  form  and  hue  ?  or  has  the 
race  had  an  intuition  of  reality  —  varying 
in  accuracy,  yet  valid  and  authentic  —  at 
each  stage  of  its  progress  ?  If  the  latter 
alternative  be  rejected,  in  what  has  the  ad- 
vance consisted  ?  Surely  there  has  been 
no  intelligible  advance  at  all  ?  and  the 
guesses  of  the  child,  at  the  foot  of  the 
ladder  of  inquiry,  have  an  equal  scientific 
value  with  the  surmises  of  the  most  edu- 
cated at  the  top  ;  that  is  to  say,  neither 
have  any  scientific  value  at  all. 

If  there  be  any  meaning  in  a  rudimen- 
tary stage  of  human  history,  when  the 
notions  formed  of  the  universe  were  cha- 
otic and  distorted,  and  if  this  gave  place 
by  gradual  steps  to  a  time  when  "  the 
ideas  of  conduct  or  moral  order  and  right 


PEKSONAUTY  AXD   THE  IXF/iVlTE.     26$ 

had  gathered  strenj^th  enough  to  estab- 
lish and  declare  themselves"  (j).  135),  what 
meaning  are  we  to  attach  to  the  progress, 
unless  in  the  latter  period  there  was  a  more 
accurate  rcadi)ig  of  the  objective  reality  of 
things  '  "The  native,  continuous,  and  in- 
creasing pressure  upon  Israel's  spirit  of 
the  ideas  of  conduct,  and  its  sanctions," 
Mr.  Arnold  calls  "his  intuition  of  the  eter- 
nal that  makes  for  righteousness."  Ikit 
whence  came  this  pressure,  this  appeal 
from  without,  this  solicitation  and  reve- 
lation ?  All  that  we  are  told  is  that  "  Is- 
rael had  an  intuitive  faculty,  a  natural 
bent  for  these  ideas"  (p.  139).  But  the 
scientific  investigator  of  the  laws  of  his- 
toric continuity  at  once  raises  the  farther 
question  of  whence.'  and  how.-*  Whence 
came  they  .'  and  how  did  they  origin-ate  } 
If  these  things  pressed  upon  the  national 
mind  of  Israel,  it  must  either  ha\"e  been 
through  tradition,  the  unconscious  heri- 
tage of  past  experience  working  in  the 
blood  of  the  people,  or  through  an  eter- 
nally present  Power,  disclosing  itself  to  the 
Hebraic  race  in  a  series  of  historic  mani- 
festations. But  does  an  inferior  state  ever 
create  a  superior  one  .'     It  necessarily  pre- 


266  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

cedes  it  in  time.  But  is  the  lower  ever 
causal  of  the  higher  ?  We  are  told  that 
the  "  usage  of  the  minority  gradually  be- 
came the  usage  of  the  majority"  (p.  147). 
So  far,  we  are  simply  recording  facts 
which  have  occurred.  We  are  dealing 
with  history,  with  the  successions  of  phe- 
nomena ;  but  we  are  explaining  nothing. 

Now,  Philosophy  essays  an  explanation 
of  History.  It  is  not  satisfied  with  statis- 
tics. If  we  ask  how  the  selfish  and  wholly 
animal  tendencies  of  primitive  society 
gradually  gave  place  to  others  that  were 
generous  or  elevated,  —  and  if,  in  answer, 
we  are  merely  directed  to  habit,  custom,  or 
usage,  —  it  is  evident  that  our  director  is 
simply  veiling  our  ignorance  from  us,  by 
a  repetition  of  the  question  proposed.  It 
is  an  explanation  of  the  usage,  not  a  re- 
statement of  it,  that  we  desire.  Habit 
merely  tells  us  that  a  thing  done  once  was 
repeated,  and  will  be  done  again.  What 
we  want  to  know  is,  how  it  came  to  be 
repeated  }  why  it  was  done  again  t  why 
it  was  done  at  all  .-*  How  the  bent  of  the 
race  was  determined  this  way  rather  than 
that  —  in  favor  of  righteousness  rather  than 
its  opposite  —  is   therefore   altogether  un- 


PF.RSO.VAI.ITY  AND   THE  IXl-lXITE.     267 

explained  by  custom  and  association.  It 
is  the  custom,  association,  and  usa;;e,  that 
call  for  explanation.  May  not  the  existence 
of  an  eternally  rii;hteous  Source,  or  Centre 
of  the  universe,  explain  it .''  The  si)irit  of 
man  can  surely  discern  a  su;)remc  moral 
principle,  if  he  himself  stands  in  a  close 
personal  relation  to  it.  And  the  rise  from 
rudimentary  perceptions  to  a  state  which 
we  now  agree  to  call  the  "moral  order" 
—  with  the  sanctions  of  society  su[)er- 
addcd  to  the  customs  of  our  ancestors  — • 
is  on  any  other  theory  unaccountable. 

In  other  words,  we  cannot  validly  affirm 
that  the  process  of  evolution  has,  after  long 
conflict,  brought  to  the  front  principles  of 
conduct,  which  can  be  called  the  real  ele- 
ments of  moral  order,  or  of  the  constitution 
of  society,  if  these  have  not  proceeded  from, 
and  are  the  progressive  manifestations  of, 
an  eternal  moral  Nature.  If  they  are  the 
product  of  a  blind  strife  amongst  rival  ten- 
dencies, at  what  point  do  they  become  a 
rule  for  posterity  }  At  what  stage  of  evolu- 
tion are  we  warranted  in  saying  that  "the 
perception,  and  the  rule  founded  on  it, 
have  become  a  conquest  forever,  placing 
human  nature  on  a  higher  stage  ;  so  that. 


268  ASSAYS  IN  rniLOSOPHY. 

however  much  the  perception  and  the  rule 
may  have  been  dubious  and  unfounded 
once,  they  must  be  taken  to  be  certain  and 
formed  now?"  (p.  153).  At  no  stage 
could  this  be  affirmed,  because  what  has 
been  formed  by  strife  must  alter  with  the 
continued  action  of  the  forces  that  have 
made  it  what  it  is.  The  child  of  contin- 
gency remains  contingent,  and  may  itself 
become  the  parent  of  endless  future  change. 
Unless,  therefore,  the  law  of  evolution 
ceases  to  operate,  and  the  process  of  de- 
velopment abruptly  closes,  the  possible 
alteration  of  the  canons  of  morality,  after 
the  conquest  has  been  made,  is  not  only  as 
conceivable  as  it  was  before  the  struggle 
commenced,  but  it  is  as  certain.  Nay,  the 
disappearance  of  these  canons  before  some 
future  rule  of  life  is  involved  in  their  very 
origin,  if  that  origin  be  merely  the  "  sur- 
vival of  the  fittest "  in  the  long  struggle 
for  existence. 

To  put  it  otherwise.  Let  us  suppose 
that  the  family  bond  arose  out  of  the  self- 
ish struggles  of  primitive  man,  —  that  rev- 
erence for  parents  and  love  for  children 
have  been  slowly  evolved  out  of  tendencies 
that  were  originally  self-regarding, — why 


I'EKSONALJTY  AND   ll/K  lAlIXJrE.     269 

should  wc  call  the  later  stage  a  more  per- 
fect one,  for  the  race  at  large  ?  It  may  be 
more  perfect,  for  those  who  have  attained 
to  it ;  but  it  would  have  been  out  of  place, 
if  earlier  in  the  field.  Is  it  not  an  essen- 
tial part  of  the  process  of  devclojiment 
that  every  stage  is  as  necessary  and  as  per- 
fect as  all  its  antecedent  and  all  its  subse- 
quent stages  ?  Unless  a  point  is  reached 
when  conduct  becomes  intrinsically  excel- 
lent,—  excellent  ill  I'lrtiic  of  its  couforuiity 
to  a  rule  ivJiieh  is  not  the  product  of  evolu- 
tion, ami  lohich  cannot  be  superseded  by  any- 
thing to  be  evolved  millentiiums  hence,  — 
how  can  we  speak  of  monogamy  and  self- 
restraint  as  "the  true  law  of  our  being" 
in  contrast  with  the  earlier  promiscuous- 
ni^ss  which  it  succeeded  ?  1'] volution,  in 
short,  tells  us  nothing  of  a  moral  goal,  be- 
cause it  gives  us  no  information  of  a  moral 
Source.  It  supplies  us  with  no  standard, 
because  it  points  to  no  Centre  ;  and  it 
brings  with  it  no  ethical  sanction  higher 
than  custom,  at  any  stage.  //  has  come 
about  is  all  that  it  tells  us  of  any  phenom- 
enon. 

Now,    not    to    speak    of    the    fluctuating 
moral  verdicts  of  the  world,  and  the  obsti- 


2/0  ESSAy'S  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

nate  reversions  from  later  to  earlier  stand- 
ards, —  that  which  has  stood  at  the  front 
and  dominated  for  a  while,  falling  again  to 
the  rear  and  being  disregarded,  —  how  can 
we  speak  of  one  stage  of  human  progress 
as  dim  and  rudimentary,  and  of  another  as 
disciplined  and  mature,  if  there  be  no  ab- 
solute standard  towards  which  the  efforts 
of  the  race  are  tending,  and  should  tend  ? 
It  is  not  merely  that  the  ethical  habit  of 
to-day  may  not  be  a  "conquest  forever," 
but  only  a  chance  victory  in  the  skirmish 
of  circumstance,  which  the  next  great  con- 
flict may  reverse.  It  is  much  more  than 
this.  If  the  later  state  be  the  creation  of 
the  former,  and  evolved  out  of  it,  —  all  the 
stages  being  of  equal  value  as  cause  and 
consequence,  —  the  very  notion  of  an  ethi- 
cal struggle  disappears.  The  successive 
moments  of  moral  experience  are  reduced 
to  the  mere  category  of  states,  prior  and 
posterior,  in  the  stream  of  development ; 
and  conscious  effort  to  reach  a  higher 
standard,  or  to  realize  a  nobler  life,  be- 
comes unnatural  discontent.  It  might 
even  be  construed  as  rebellion  against  the 
leadings  of  instinct  !  and,  if  so,  the  actual 
would    legitimately    crush    out    the    ideal. 


ri:KSO\AlJTY  AND   THE  IMIMTi:.     2J\ 

Then,  with  the  stimuhis  of  aspiration  gone, 
and  the  sense  of  control  removed,  the  drift 
of  the  average  man,  and  of  the  race,  would 
be  towards  the  easiest  pleasures,  and  the 
satisfactions  of  the  savage  state. 

The  emergence  of  the  conscience  is  one 
thing,  its  creation  is  another.  Its  rise  out 
of  lower  elements,  its  consequent  flexibil- 
ity, and  its  possible  transformation  in  the 
course  of  ages  into  a  much  more  delicate 
instrument,  —  sensitive  to  all  passing  lights 
and  shades  and  fine  issues  of  conduct,  —  is 
perfectly  consistent  with  its  being  a  com- 
petent witness  to  a  Reality,  which  it  has 
gradually  succeeded  in  apprehending,  and 
which  it  has  not  merely  idealized  out  of  its 
own  subjective  processes.  If  the  senti- 
ment of  duty  arose  out  of  an  experience, 
which  was  at  first  as  entirely  devoid  of  it 
as  that  of  the 

Baby  new  to  earth  and  sky, 

who 

Never  thinks  that  this  is  I, 

the  obscure  genesis  of  those  convictions, 
which  finally  assume  shapes  so  transcend- 
ent, could  not  invalidate  or  even  affect 
their  trustworthiness. 

The  story  of  the  race  is  but  the  story 


2/2  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  the  individual  "writ  large."  When  the 
moral  sense  awakens  in  a  child,  under  the 
tutelage  of  its  seniors,  the  influences  to 
which  it  is  subjected  do  not  create  its  con- 
science. They  merely  evoke  it.  The  child 
opens  its  eyes,  and  sees ;  although  the  pro- 
cess of  learning  to  see  accurately  may  be  a 
much  longer  one  in  moral  than  in  visual 
perception.  If  it  is  so  with  the  child,  why 
may  it  not  be  so  similarly  with  the  race  } 
Why  not  necessarily  ?  Let  the  processes 
of  growth,  therefore,  be  what  they  may, 
the  source  of  the  moral  faculty  lies  hid 
beyond  the  lines  of  historical  investiga- 
tion, and  the  authority  of  the  developed 
product  is  not  invalidated  by  the  discovery 
of  its  lineage. 

It  comes  to  this,  that  in  the  phenomena 
of  conscience  we  find  the  traces  of  a  prin- 
ciple 

Deep-seated  in  our  mystic  frame, 

which  is  not  evolved  out  of  the  lower  ele- 
ments of  appetency  and  desire.  These 
phenomena  disclose  results,  which  are  best 
explained  by  the  presence  of  an  alter  ego, 
"in  us,  yet  not  of  us."  We  can  trace  it 
working  within,  yet  mysteriously  overshad- 
owing us,  and   suggesting  —  in  the  occa- 


rKRSONALITY  AND   THE  JXI-IMIE.     273 

sional  flaslics  of  li,i;lit  sent  across  the 
darker  backj^round  of  experience  —  tlie 
action  of  another  Personality,  bLhiini  our 
own. 

Our  account  of  the  j)henomena  of  con- 
science is  not  exhausted  when  we  affirm 
that  certain  moral  causes,  set  in  operation 
by  ourselves  or  others,  issue  in  certain 
subjective  effects  upon  the  character.  To 
say  that  definite  consequences  result  from 
sj^vjcific  acts  is  only  to  state  one  half  of  the 
case,  and  that  the  least  important  half. 
How  are  our  actions  invested  with  the 
character  of  blameworthiness,  or  the  re- 
verse .''  Moral  wa:)rth  and  baseness  are  not 
only  two  points  or  sta<;es,  in  the  upward 
or  downward  stream  of  tendency.  The 
merit  and  the  demerit  are  respectively  due 
to  the  character  of  the  stream,  as  deter- 
mined at  the  moment,  by  the  act  and 
choice  of  the  individual. 

It  is  unnecessary  at  this  point  to  raise 
the  large  question  of  the  freedom  of  the 
will,  its  moral  autonomy.  It  is  enough  to 
affirm  that  the  theoretical  denial  of  free- 
dom will  always  be  met  by  a  counter  affir- 
mation, springing  from  a  region  unaifectcd 
by  inductive  evidence.      It  will  also  be  met 


274  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

by  the  recoil  of  the  feelings  of  mankind 
from  the  doctrine  of  non-responsibility  for 
action,  which  is  the  logical  outcome  of  that 
denial.  It  may  be  safely  affirmed  that, 
allowing  for  hereditary  tendency,  and  the 
influence  of  constraining  circumstances, 
the  human  race  will  continue  to  apportion 
its  praise  and  its  blame  to  individuals,  on 
the  ground  that  their  action  might  take 
shape  in  either  of  two  contrary  directions, 
according  to  the  choice  and  determination 
of  the  will.  No  action  ever  arises  abso- 
lutely de  novo,  unaffected  by  antecedent 
causes,  both  active  and  latent ;  neither  is 
any  action  absolutely  determined  from 
Vv'ilhout,  or  from  behind.  In  each  act  of 
choice,  the  causal  nexus  remains  unsev- 
ered  ;  while  the  act  itself  is  ethically  free, 
and  undetermined.  In  other  words,  af- 
firming the  moral  autonomy  of  the  will, 
we  deny  the  liberty  of  libertarian  indiffer- 
ence ;  and  affirming  the  integrity  of  the 
causal  ne.xus,  we  reject  the  despotism  of 
necessitarian  fate  :  and  we  maintain  that, 
in  so  doing,  we  are  not  affirming  and  deny- 
ing the  same  thing  at  the  same  time  ;  but 
that  we  are  true  to  the  facts  of  conscious- 
ness,   and    preserve    a   moral    eclecticism. 


PERSONALITY  AND   THE  JNEINITE.     275 

wliich  shuns  "the  falsehood  of  extremes," 
and  has  its  evidence  in  the  personality  of 
the  agent.  The  two  rival  schemes  of  Lib- 
erty ami  Necessity,  both  "resistless  in  as- 
sault, but  impotent  in  defense,"  are  i)rac- 
tically  overthrown  by  the  ease  with  which 
each  annihilates  the  other.  To  exhibit  the 
rationale  of  this  would  require  a  long  chap- 
ter. 

Leaving  it,  therefore,  —  and  assuming 
the  freedom  wdiich  we  make  no  attempt 
to  demonstrate,  —  the  specialty  of  that 
Power  which  presides  over  the  region  of 
mixed  motive  and  variable  choice  is  at 
once  its  absoluteness,  and  its  independence 
of  the  individual.  It  announces  itself,  in 
Kantian  phrase,  as  the  "  categorical  im- 
perative." It  is  not  ours,  as  an  emotion  or 
passion  is  ours.  We  speak  in  a  figure  of 
the  voice  of  the  conscience  ;  implying,  in 
our  popular  use  of  the  term,  its  indepen- 
dence of  us.  It  is  not  our  own  voice  ;  or, 
if  the  voice  of  the  higher  self,  —  in  con- 
trast with  the  lower,  which  it  controls,  — -it 
is  an  inspiration  in  us,  the  whispered  sug- 
gestion of  a  monitor  "throned  within  our 
other  powers."  If  it  were  merely  the  re- 
monstrance   of    one    part    of    our    nature 


276  £SSA  VS  IN  PHILCSOPHY. 

against  the  workings  of  another  part,  we 
might  question  its  right  to  do  more  than 
claim  to  be  an  equal  inmate  of  the  house. 
In  any  case  disregard  of  it  would  amount 
to  nothing  more  serious  than  a  loss  of  har- 
mony, a  false  note  marring  the  music  of 
human  action,  or  a  flaw  in  argument  that 
disarranged  the  sequences  of  thought.  In 
the  moral  imperative,  however,  which  com- 
mands us  categorically,  and  acts  without 
our  order,  and  cannot  be  silenced  by  us, 
we  find  the  hints  of  a  Personality  that  is 
girding  and  enfolding  ours.  As  admirably 
expressed  by  Francis  Newman,  — 

This  energy  of  life  within  is  ours,  yet  it  is  not  we. 

It  is  in  us,  it  belongs  to  us,  yet  we  cannot  control  it. 

It  acts  without  our  bidding,  and  when  we  do  not  think 
of  it. 

Nor  will  it  cease  its  acting  at  our  command,  or  other- 
wise obey  us. 

But  while  it  recalls  from  evil,  and  reproaches  us  for  evil, 

And  is  not  silenced  by  our  effort,  surely  it  is  not  zue  ; 

Yet  it  pervades  mankind,  as  one  life  pervades  the  trees. ^ 

It  is  not  that  in  the  restraints  of  law  we 
are  conscious  of  a  fence  or  boundary  laid 
down  by  statute.     But,  in   the  most   deli- 

1  Theism,  p.  13.  Cf.  Fenelon,  Dc  P Existence  de  Dieu, 
Part  I.  c.  I,  §  29.  See  also  Cardinal  Newman,  Gra/n- 
viar  of  Assent,  Part  I.  c    5,  §  i. 


PEKSOXALITY  AXD   77/E  INFIXITE.     2/7 

catc  sui^i^estions  and  surmises  of  this  moni- 
tor, we  are  aware  of  a  Presence  "besetting 
us" — ^  as  tlie  Hebrews  put  it — "behind 
and  before,"  penetrating  the  soul,  pressing 
its  appeals  upon  us,  yet  withdrawing  itself 
the  moment  it  has  uttered  its  voice,  and 
leaving  us  to  the  exercise  of  our  own  free- 
dom. The  most  significant  fact  —  if  not 
the  most  noticeable  —  in  the  relation  of  the 
Conscience  to  the  Will  is  its  quick  sugges- 
tion of  what  ought  to  be  done,  and  the  en- 
tire absence  of  subsequent  compulsion  in 
the  doing  of  it.  When  the  force  of  the 
moral  imperative  is  felt  most  absolutely, 
the  hand  of  external  necessity  is  with- 
drawn, that  we  may  act  freely.  Consciously 
hemmed  in  and  weighed  down  by  physi- 
cal forces  within  the  sphere  of  Nature, — 
forces  which  we  are  powerless  to  resist, 
—  the  pressure  is  relaxed,  within  the  moral 
sphere  ;  and  we  are  free  to  go  to  the  right 
hand  or  to  the  left,  when  duty  appeals  to 
us  on  the  one  side,  and  desire  on  the  othi^'r. 
This  has  been  so  excellently  put  by  Mr. 
Richard  Ilutton,  in  his  essay  on  "the 
Atheistic  Ex;)lanation  of  Religion,"  that  I 
may  quote  a  sentence,  which  sums  up  the 
ethical  arirument  for  the  Divine  Personal- 


2/8  ASSAYS  AV  PHILOSOPHY. 

ity,  better  than  any  other  that  I  am  aware 
of:  — 

Accustomed  as  man  is  to  feel  his  persoiin]  feebleness, 
his  entire  subordination  to  the  physical  forces  of  the 
universe,  ...  in  the  case  of  moral  duty  he  finds  this 
ahnost  constant  pressure  remarkably  withdrawn  at  the 
very  crisis  in  which  the  import  of  his  actions  is  broucrht 
home  to  him  with  the  most  vivid  conviction.  Of  what 
nature  can  a  power  be  that  moves  us  hither  and  thither 
throuyli  the  ordinary  course  of  our  lives.  l)ut  withdraws 
its  hands  at  those  critical  points  where  we  have  the 
clearest  sense  of  authority,  in  order  to  let  us  act  for  our- 
selves }  The  absolute  control  that  sways  so  much  of 
our  life  is  waived  just  where  we  are  impressed  with  the 
most  profound  con\iction  that  there  is  hut  one  path  in 
which  we  can  move  with  a  free  heart.  If  so,  are  we  not 
then  surely  loatchcd'.'  Is  it  not  clear  that  the  P'jwer 
which  has  therein  ceased  to  movt'  us  has  retired  only  to 
observe?  .  .  .  The  mind  is  ])ursucd  into  its  freest  nio\'e- 
mcnts  by  this  belief  that  the  Power  within  could  (;nly 
voluntarilv  have  receded  from  its  task  of  moulding  us, 
in  order  to  keep  watch  over  us.  as  we  mould  ourselves. i 

It  is  thus  that  the  dualism,  involved  in 
all  knowledge,  comes  out  in  sharpest  promi- 
nence in  the  moral  sphere.  There  \vc  rise 
at  once,  above  the  uniformity  of  mere  phe- 
nomenalism, and  out  of  the  thralldom  of 
necessity,  b}'  recognizing  the  transcendent 
element  that  is  latent  in  the  conscience. 
We  escape  from  the  circle  of  self  alto- 
gether, ill  the  "otherness  "  of  moral  law. 

1  Essaj's,  Theological  and  Literary,  vol.  i.  pp.  41,  42. 


PERSONALITY  AND   THE  L\' FINITE.     2JC) 

It  is  in  the  ethical  field  that  we  meet 
with  the  most  significant  facts,  whicli  pre- 
vent us  from  gliding,  through  a  seductive 
love  of  unity,  into  a  pantheistic  solution  of 
the  problem  of  existence.  The  fascination 
of  the  pursuit  of  unity,  through  all  the  di- 
versities of  finite  e\i-.tence,  has  given  rise 
to  many  philosojihical  systems,  which  have 
twisted  the  facts  of  consciousness  ti)  one 
side.  \\\\\.  unity  is  by  itself  as  unintelli- 
gible, as  diversity  minus  unity  is  unthink- 
able. If  there  were  but  oiie  self-existing 
Substance,  of  which  all  individual  forms  of 
being  were  tributary  streams,  the  relation 
of  any  single  rill  to  its  source  (and  to  the 
whole)  would  be  merely  that  of  derivation. 
Moral  ties  would  be  lost,  in  a  union  that 
was  purely  physical.  On  this  theory,  the 
universe  would  be  one,  onlv  because  there 
was  nothing  in  it  to  unite  ;  whereas  all 
moral  unity  implies  diversity,  and  is  based 
upon  it.  There  must  be  a  difference  in  the 
things  which  are  connected  by  an  under- 
lying and  under-working  affinity.  And  wc 
find  this  difference  most  apparent  in  the 
phenomena  of  the  moral  cosnciousness. 
While,  therefore,  the  moral  law  legislates, 
and    desire  opposes,   in  the    struggle  that 


28o  £SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

ensues  between  inclination  and  duty,  we 
trace  the  working  of  a  principle,  which  has 
not  grown  out  of  our  desires  and  their 
gratification.  We  discover  that  we  arc 
not,  like  the  links  in  the  chain  of  physical 
nature,  passive  instruments  for  the  develop- 
ment of  the  increasing  purpose  of  things  ; 
but  that  we  exist  for  the  unfolding,  disci- 
plining, and  completing  of  a  life  of  self- 
control,  and  the  inward  mastery  of  impulse, 
through  which,  at  the  great  crises  of  moral 
decision,  a  new  world  of  experience  is  en- 
tered. 

We  cannot  tell  when  this  began.  Its 
origin  is  lost  in  the  golden  haze  that  is 
wrapped  around  our  infancy,  when  per- 
sonal life  is  not  consciously  distinguishable 
from  automatic  action.  }?ut  as  our  facul- 
ties enlarge,  a  point  is  reached  when  the 
individual  perceives  the  significance  of 
freedom,  the  meaning  of  the  august  rules 
of  righteousness,  and  the  grave  issues  of 
voluntary  choice.  It  is  then  that  con- 
science 

Gives  out  at  times 

A  little  flash,  a  mystic  hint 

of  a  Personality  distinct  from  ours,  yet 
kindred  to  it,  in  the  unity  of  which  it  lives, 


PERSOXALITY  AND   THE  INFIMTE.     28  I 

and  has  its  being.  Whence  come  those 
suggestions  of  the  Infinite  —  that  flit 
athwart  the  stage  of  consciousness,  in 
our  struggle  and  asjjiration  after  the  ideal 
—  if  not  from  a  Personal  Source  kindred 
to  themselves  ?  We  do  not  create  our 
own  lonjrinfrs  in  this  direction.  On  the 
contrary,  as  we  advance  from  infancy  to 
maturity,  we  come,  by  slow  progressive 
steps,  to  the  knowledge  of  a  vast  over- 
shadowing Personality,  —  unseen  yet  su- 
pra-sensible, recognized  at  intervals  then 
lost  to  view,  known  and  unknown,  —  sur- 
rounding, enfolding,  inspiring,  and  appeal- 
ing to  us,  in  the  suggestions  of  the  moral 
faculty  }  In  addition  to  this,  our  sense  of 
the  boundlessness  of  duty  brings  with  it  a 
suggestion  of  the  infinity  of  its  Source. 
We  know  it  to  be  beyond  ourselves,  and 
higher  than  we,  extra-human;  even  extra- 
mundane  ;  while,  on  other  grounds,  we 
know  it  to  be  also  intra-human  and  intra- 
mundane.  W^e  find  no  diiificulty  in  realiz- 
ing that  the  Personality,  revealed  to  us  in 
conscience,  may  have  infinite  relations  and 
affinities  ;  because,  in  no  district  of  the 
universe,  can  we  conceive  the  verdict  of 
the  moral  law  reversed.     Nowhere  would 


282  ^.S-i-^KS-  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

it  be  right  not  "to  do  justly,  and  to  love 
mercy,"  although  the  practical  rules  and 
minor  canons  of  morality  may,  like  cere- 
monial codes,  change  with  the  place  in 
which  they  originate,  and  the  circumstances 
which  gave  rise  to  them.  If,  therefore, 
the  suffrage  of  the  race  has  not  created 
this  inward  monitor,  and  if  its  sway  is  co- 
extensive with  the  sphere  of  moral  agency, 
—  if  its  range  is  as  vast  as  its  authority  is 
absolute  —  in  these  facts  we  have  corrobo- 
rative evidence  of  the  union  of  the  Per- 
sonal with  the  Infinite. 


IMMORTALITY. 

In  discussing  this  lart;c  subject,  which 
periodically  comes  to  the  front,  and  occu- 
pies, if  it  docs  not  ai;itatc,  every  thoui^ht- 
ful  mind,  —  the  question,  \\z.,  of  the  sur- 
vival of  the  individual  when  this  life  ends, 
—  it  is  above  all  things  necessary  to  keep 
wiihin  the  lines  of  verifiable  evidence,  in 
order  that  we  may  lean  on  no  broken,  and, 
if  possible,  on  no  breakable  reed.  It  is 
also  necessary  to  distinguish  between  what 
we  actually  know,  and  what  we  merely  sur- 
mise, or  may  legitimately  hope  fcjr.  If  it 
is  not  likely  (as  I  do  not  thiidc  it  is)  tliat 
many  new  proofs  will  be  forthcoming,  — 
proofs  that  will  set  the  question  finally  at 
rest,  —  it  is  desirable  that  all  the  old  ones 
should  be  recast,  from  age  to  age.  Still 
more  important  is  it  that  the  great  mass  of 
inconclusive  argument,  which  so  easily  ac- 
cumulates on  a  subject  of  sucli  importance, 
should  be  cleared  away,  in  order  that  we 
may  see  where  the  foundation  stones  are 
lying. 


284  £SSAVS  IN  rillLOSOPHY. 

Many  persons  seem  to  me  to  desiderate 
far  more,  in  the  way  of  positive  evidence 
on  this  subject,  than  it  is  desirable  a  priojd 
to  expect,  or  than  the  experience  of  the 
past  warrants  us  in  hoping  to  obtain.  One 
distinguished  writer  has  told  us,  sorrow- 
fully, that  he  has  found  "no  logical  reasons 
to  compel  conviction."  But  he  forgets 
that,  if  such  existed,  the  controversy  would 
be  closed.  If  there  was  no  possibility  of 
questioning  the  doctrine,  in  its  very  obvi- 
ousness it  would  be  shorn  of  half  its  grand- 
eur. It  would  sink  to  the  level  of  a  sec- 
ondary truth,  if  not  to  the  lower  level  of  a 
commonplace  conviction.  It  is  sometimes 
forgotten  that  all  perfectly  luminous  truths 
are  secondary  ones.  Truths  that  are  pri- 
mary, or  ultimate,  are  of  necessity  dim ; 
because,  whenever  we  pass  beyond  phe- 
nomena, the  reality  which  we  apprehend  is 
half  concealed,  as  well  as  half  revealed. 
In  our  more  impatient  and  shallow  moods 
we  may  wish  it  were  otherwise  ;  but,  in  all 
the  profoundcr  moments  of  experience,  we 
do  not  desire  that  these  ultimate  convic- 
tions should  be  lowered  to  the  level  of  the 
perfectly  obvious.  It  will  be  seen  that  sev- 
eral important  moral   ends   are  served  by 


JMMOR  TA  LITY.  285 

the  very  obscurity  of  the  problem  with 
which  we  are  to  deal. 

It  is  expedient,  first,  of  all  to  set  aside 
the  irrelevant  arguments  that  have  been 
advanced,  both  in  favor  of  the  doctrine 
and  against  it ;  always  remembering  that, 
as  every  error  is'  a  truth  abused,  many  a 
faulty  argument  may  spring  from  a  root 
existing  somewhere  in  human  nature,  or 
beyond  it  ;  and  that,  with  all  its  irrelevancy 
or  inconclusiveness,  it  may  be  merely  the 
distortion  of  a  truth,  which  only  requires  to 
be  reset,  in  order  to  afford  valid  corrobora- 
tive testimony. 

I  put  aside  the  instinctive  desire  or  long- 
ing for  continued  life,  because  we  desire 
and  long  for  many  things  which  we  can- 
not possibly  get.  We  may  note,  however, 
that  it  is  not  on  the  mere  wish  for  immor- 
tality that  the  argument  is  based,  but 
rather  on  this,  that,  since  the  stream  of 
instinctive  tendency  sets  in  that  direction 
so  strongly,  some  real  magnet,  and  no 
mere  illusion,  must  be  drawing  it  forth. 
Thus,  the  desire  may  be  prophetic  of  its 
own  fulfillment.  W'e  may  take  the  state- 
ment of  Aquinas  as  an  embodiment  of  this 
argument,  "  Xaturale  desiderium  non  potest 


286  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

esse  inane ; "  but  the  inference  is  invalid, 
and  must  be  set  aside  unhesitatingly.  We 
set  aside  also  the  proof  drawn  from  the 
consent  of  the  ages.  In  reference  to  im- 
mortality there  is  no  consensus  gentium. 
It  is  not  in  the  category  of  the  "quod 
semper,  quod  ubique,  qilod  ab  omnibus." 
Then,  there  is  the  argument  from  analogy. 
There  is  no  analogy,  however,  between  any 
phenomenal  change  in  the  physical  world 
and  that  which  supervenes  when  soul  and 
body  separate.  The  doctrine  of  immortal- 
ity is  thus  outwith  or  beyond  experience. 
It  has  been  said  that  as  the  worm  changes 
into  the  chrysalis,  and  the  chrysalis  into 
the  fly,  while  both  are  in  a  rudimentary 
manner  within  the  worm  from  the  first, 
our  act  of  dying  may  be  merely  "  the  shuf- 
fling off"  of  "a  mortal  coil "  which  liber- 
ates the  spirit.  But  there  is  no  analogy 
between  the  two.  The  only  valid  parallel 
would  be  the  immediate  appearance  of  an- 
other body;  as,  when  a  crustacean  casts 
its  shell,  the  new  one  already  exists  within 
that  which  is  thrown  aside.  The  butterfly 
is  materially  within  the  caterpillar;  and  the 
vital  principle  does  not  desert  the  worm 
or    the    crustacean,    and    appear   detached 


IMMORTALITY.  287 

from  its  old  envelope.  It  only  slumbers 
in  the  one,  and  reawakens  in  the  other. 
Thus  no  physical  consideration  is  of  any 
value  in  favor  of  the  survival  of  the  human 
soul.  Grant  that  matter  cannot  by  itself 
fashion  the  material  molecules  into  the 
shapes  which  they  assume,  and  that  this  is 
due  to  an  immaterial  principle  working  in 
and  throu  j;h  it,  it  does  not  follow  that  the 
vital  force  which  accretes  these  molecules 
and  vitalizes  them  must  continue  to  live, 
independently  of  the  work  it  does. 

But  now,  with  these  arguments  candidly 
laid  aside,  there  are  others,  constantly  ad- 
vanced against  immortality,  which  must  be 
set  aside  as  equally  baseless.  By  far  the 
strongest  of  these  is  the  present  depen- 
dence of  the  human  soul  upon  the  body  ; 
the  correlation  of  the  two  being  so  close, 
that  the  vigor  of  the  one  wa.xes  and  wanes 
with  the  vigor  of  the  other.  So  far  as  ex- 
perience guides  us,  this  dependence  is  con- 
stant, though  not  absolute  ;  and  it  is  in- 
ferred that,  being  inseparable  now,  when 
the  one  dies  the  other  must  perish  with  it. 
This,  however,  is  an  illegitimate  inference. 
The  present  correlation  of  mind  and  mat- 
ter, in  the  conscious  life  of  S')ul  and  bodv. 


288  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

can  prove  nothing  against  the  immortality 
of  the  former ;  and  if,  during  the  present 
life,  our  vital  phenomena  are  only  tJie  sen- 
sible signs  of  a  reality  beyond  themselves, 
their  cessation  as  phenomena  is  not  neces- 
sarily the  cessation  of  life  itself.  We  may 
note  further  that,  while  analogy  is  incom- 
petent to  prove  immortality,  it  is  equally 
incapable  of  disproving  it,  and  that  it  can- 
not, in  the  least  degree,  discredit  it.  It 
does  not  follow  that,  because  the  elements 
out  of  which  the  body  is  composed  are 
refunded  to  nature  on  the  death  of  the 
organism,  the  same  must  take  place  with 
regard  to  the  soul,  unless  we  can  prove, 
on  independent  grounds,  that  mind  is  but 
a  function  of  body,  when  of  course  the 
function  would  cease  with  the  cessation 
of  its  organ. 

I  have  now  to  refer  to  certain  argu- 
ments, lying  midway  between  those  al- 
ready mentioned,  and  the  more  valid  ones 
to  which  we  afterwards  proceed.  These 
intermediate  proofs  are  founded  on  an  al- 
leged necessity  for  the  completion  or  full 
development  of  powers,  for  which  the  pres- 
ent life  gives  no  adequate  scope.  They 
may  be  called  psychological  arguments,  be- 


IMMOR  TA  1. 1 TY.  2  89 

cause  they  arise  out  of  the  contrast  l^etwecn 
the  results  attauied  in  this  hie  and  the 
possihihties  of  attainment.  \\\  tlie  case  of 
lower  organisms,  this  docs  not  hold  good. 
They  perish  hy  the  thousand,  incomplete; 
they  are  nipped  in  the  hud  by  the  million. 
But  the  argument, — or  rather  the  sugges- 
tion, or  "intimation  of  immortality,"  —  in 
the  case  of  man,  may  be  put  thus.  The 
total  absence  of  comi)lction  within  terres- 
trial limits,  as  compared  with  the  approxi- 
mate realization  of  it,  in  the  case  of  the 
lower  creatures  within  these  limits,  sug- 
gests for  man  a  sphere  and  an  arena  in  the 
future  in  which  completion  will  be  possi- 
ble. In  the  case  of  the  flower,  the  insect, 
and  the  tree,  there  is  a  fixed  limit  of  devel- 
opment. Further  growth  is  impossible. 
So  with  man's  body  ;  beyond  a  definite 
though  variable  limit  it  cannot  possibly 
continue  to  exist.  Its  functions  wear  out. 
The  human  consciousness,  on  the  other 
hand,  never  blossoms  into  perfect  form 
within  the  limits  of  the  "threescore  }"ears 
and  ten."  Of  course  the  physiologist  will 
tell  us  that  the  two  must  develop  together, 
and  that  the  one  cannot  continue  when 
the  other  ends.      The   rejoinder,  however, 


290  ESS  A  YS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

is  obvious  :  in  autumn,  the  flower  vinst 
fade,  because  it  has  done  its  work.  Not 
only  do  external  climatic  conditions  com- 
pel decay,  the  internal  state  of  the  or- 
ganism necessitates  it.  But  this  cannot 
be  affirmed  with  the  same  confidence,  or 
on  the  same  grounds,  of  the  human  soul. 
We  have  no  evidence  that,  when  the  limits 
of  the  bodily  organism  are  reached,  the 
mental  and  moral  faculties  have  attained 
their  goal.  On  the  contrary,  they  of^en 
seem  to  be  Just  couimenciiig  their  develop- 
ment. This  is  especially  seen  on  the  moral 
side  of  experience,  in  reference  to  the  ca- 
pacities of  human  virtue  and  affection. 
Their  utterly  inadequate  development  in 
this  life,  as  compared  with  their  possibili- 
ties of  expansion,  and  still  more  their  la- 
tent conscious  affinities,  suggests  a  future 
in  which  there  will  be  room  for  enlarge- 
ment. The  mere  existence  of  those  moral 
ideals  —  which  expand  as  we  approach  to- 
wards them,  and  which  recede  perpetually 
before  the  inward  eye  that  contemplates 
them  —  suggests,  not  the  fugitive  chase  of 
a  phantom,  the  pursuit  of  a  will-o'-the-wisp, 
but  a  future  emancipation  from  fetters 
which  now  arrest  the  development  of  en- 
ergy. 


IMMOR  TALI  TV.  29 1 

Before  I  state  the  grounds  on  which  — 
in  the  absence  of  any  evidence  aL;ainst  im- 
niortvxlity  —  our  moral  intuitions  (and  such 
suggestions  as  tliose  just  referred  to)  may 
be  allowed  to  come  in,  and  to  weight  the 
scale  of  probability  in  its  favor,  a  remark 
may  be  made  on  the  scorn  with  which  the 
latter  kind  of  evidence  is  received  in  cer- 
tain quarters.  Perhaps  it  is  not  every  mind 
that  can  admit  the  force  of  the  evidence  of 
intuition  —  which  is  a  sort  of  divination,  or 
purified  second-sight,  kindred  to  the  poet's 
vision  of  the  universe  ;  but  it  is  worthy  of 
note  that,  as  it  bears  upon  the  future,  this 
intuition  is  invariably  keenest  in  the  best 
of  men.  It  is  the  noblest  characters  whose 
attainments  in  virtue  and  goodness  are 
greatest,  those  who  have  done  most  for 
their  fellow-men,  in  whom  this  presage  of 
the  future  is  most  vivid  ;  and,  further,  it  is 
in  their  loftiest  moments  that  the  conjec- 
ture is  keenest.  It  is  the  surmise  of  the 
highest  element  in  human  nature. 

The  wish  that  of  the  living  whole, 
No  life  should  fail  beyond  the  grave, 
Derives  it  not  from  what  we  hold, 
The  likcst  (lod  within  the  soul? 

This  surmise  often  intensifies,  toward  the 


292  ESSA  YS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

close  of  life.  Some  of  the  best  of  men, 
as  they  have  approached  the  inevitable 
barrier,  have  had  the  clearest  sight  of  what 
lies  beyond  it.  And  the  poets  —  as  Ten- 
nyson, in  his  "Crossing  the  Bar,"  and 
Browning  in  his  final  "Reverie"  —  have 
spoken  on  the  subject  in  their  old  age  with 
a  clearer  voice  of  prophecy. 

But  the  answer  which  we  give  to  the 
problem  of  immortality  must  depend  on 
how  we  answer  a  prior  question.  That 
prior  question  relates  to  the  soul's  nature 
and  inherent  characteristics.  If  we  have 
good  grounds  for  believing  that  we  are 
more  than  a  succession  of  states  of  chang- 
ing experience,  if  a  thread  of  personality 
and  of  inner  continuity  runs  through  all 
that  we  are,  —  so  that  we  are  not  mere 
functions  of  organization,  —  we  may  have 
good  grounds  for  believing  that  the  body 
does  not  possess  iis,  so  to  speak,  but  tJiat  we 
possess  it,  and  that  we  are  therefore  sepa- 
rate and  separable  from  it.  Here  we  must 
fall  back  on  the  testimony  of  conscious- 
ness ;  and  while  no  one  can  do  this  vica- 
riously, or  by  proxy  for  another,  I  think 
that  the  following  will  be  found  to  be  a 
fact  which  awaits  discovery,  and  which  has 


IMMORTALITY.  293 

only  to  be  sought  in  order  to  be  found,  viz  , 
that  while,  during  the  ])rcsent  life,  we  are 
grarlually  gathering  together  a  mass  of  ex- 
perience of  all  sorts,  we  are,  or  wc  may  be, 
conscious  all  the  time  of  an  undcrl)ing  self 
as  a  centre  round  which  this  experience 
gatliers.  We  are  continuously  conscious 
of  the  mind's  dependence  upon  the  body, 
but  it  docs  not  follow  that  this  dependence 
destroys  its  independence.  We  know  that, 
if  the  brain  is  injured,  the  manifestations 
of  thought  are  impaired,  and  that  if  the 
brain  is  destroyed  the  manifestations  of 
thought  cease  ;  but  it  does  not  follow  that 
thought  itself  ceases,  or  that  the  conscious 
life  of  the  mind  comes  to  an  end. 

I  admit  that  the  array  of  statistics  by 
which  the  dependence  of  mind  on  brain  is 
established  is  the  most  formidable  fact,  or 
series  of  facts,  with  which  the  spiritualist 
has  to  deal  in  this  inquiry.  But  surely  it 
is  an  equally  arresting  fact  in  our  con- 
scious experience  that  the  mind's  present 
relation  to  the  body  is  that  of  dependence 
and  independence  combined.  I  tleny  th:it 
it  is  wholly  dependent,  or  that  it  is  entirely 
independent;  I  affirm  it  to  be  both  the  one 
and  the  other.     At   certain  times  the  dc- 


294  £SSAyS   IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

pendence  may  be  at  a  maximum,  and  the 
independence  at  a  minimum  ;  but  at  other 
times  it  is  precisely  the  reverse.  In  mo- 
ments of  heightened  consciousness  every 
one  knows  how  energy  rises  and  asserts 
itself,  sometimes  even  chafing  with  the 
trammels  of  the  physical  organism.  We 
cannot,  of  course,  be  conscious  of  the  de- 
tachment of  the  mind  from  the  body  ;  but 
we  are  habitually  conscious  of  an  inward 
energy,  which  rises  and  falls  within  us,  al- 
ternately dominating  over  the  organism 
.  and  succumbing  to  it,  and  which,  there- 
fore, may  be  finally  separable  from  it. 
Then  is  it  not  an  undoubted  fact  that  the 
operations  of  mind  are  more  perfect,  the 
freer  they  are  from  the  restraints  of  the 
body .''  Up  to  a  certain  normal  point  the 
body  aids  the  mind  ;  beyond  that  point  it 
tyrannizes  over  it.  Take  this  fact  in  con- 
nection with  the  frequent  consciousness  of 
powers  possessed  but  unused,  of  powers 
locked  up,  or  held  down  by  the  fetters  of 
the  flesh,  latent  energies,  which  are  now 
in  us  in  a  state  similar  to  that  in  which 
our  senses  u-ere  in  the  embryonic  stage. 
Does  not  this  suggest  the  mind's  indepen- 
dence of  its  organism  1     Grant  that,  with 


IMMORTALITY.  295 

all  those  hei,i;htcninc;s  and  bri;j;htc'nlnfjs  of 
consciousness,  there  is  —  as  the  physiolo- 
gists reniinil  us  —  a  tlefinite  courtliiiation 
of  molecular  states,  the  former  are  at  least 
simultaneous  su_i;;j,esti()ns  of  the  inner  free- 
dom of  the  spirit.  They  su^_;est  that  it 
is  not  the  slave  of  the  body  in  which  it 
is  lodged,  but  rather  in  the  position  of  a 
temporary  tenant.  If,  then,  our  personal- 
ity is  not  due  to  the  body,  may  it  not 
survive  when  the  body  falls  to  pieces  .-' 
Wherein  lies  the  difficulty  of  supposing; 
that  the  individual  carries  within  him  the 
seeds  of  immortalit)',  which  cannot  ripen 
where  they  are  at  present,  but  which  — 
like  the  mummy  wheat  in  L^L;yi)tian  tombs 
—  may  supply  the  har\"ests  of  the  future  .'' 

The  whole  controversy  hinges  on  the 
question  of  the  origin  of  mind,  and  whether 
molecular  motion  can  give  rise  to  human 
consciousness.  That  it  can,  is  the  mate- 
rialistic thesis  ;  that  it  cannot,  is  the  spir- 
itualistic antithesis.  The  materialistic  the- 
sis is,  I  maintain,  unverifiable  ;  because 
(i)  no  amount  of  research  amongst  exter- 
nal phenomena  can  touch  the  question  of 
the  source  of  those  phenomena  of  which 
we  are  conscious,  or  bring  us  with.in  sight 


296  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  its  solution  ;  and  {2)  if  there  be  an  in- 
terior principle  which  binds  together  the 
isolated  threads  of  thought  and  feeling,  we 
have  direct  evidence  that  our  personality 
is  not  due  to  a  mere  passive  evolution,  but 
that  it  is  the  product  of  an  active  power 
working  within  phenomena,  arranging  and 
coordinating  them.  If,  therefore,  we  are 
more  than  phenomena,  we  may  at  least 
surmise  that  we  do  not  perish  and  pass 
away,  as  phenomena  do. 

There  is  no  doubt  that,  so  far  as  the 
evidence  of  sc7isc  can  guide  us,  death  is 
the  end  of  the  individual.  Nothing  can 
follow  but  a  rearrangement  of  the  mole- 
cules of  matter,  in  some  new  individual 
form,  or  in  one  without  individuality.  Xo 
one  doubts  that  the  quantity  of  matter 
within  the  universe  neither  increases  nor 
diminishes.  It  only  changes.  It  appears 
for  a^time  vitalized,  but  its  vitality  is  only 
for  a  time.  The  question  is,  What  be- 
comes of  the  vital  principle,  when  it 
ceases  to  animate  a  certain  group  of 
atoms  .''  Does  it  simply  fall  back  into  the 
great  reservoir  of  cosmic  force,  out  of  which 
it  came,  like  a  stream  returning  to  the  sea 
in  which  it  is  lost;  or  does  its  individual- 


IMMORTALITY. 


'-97 


ity  survive,  detached  from  ihc  old  form 
that  now  has  pcrislied,  but  still  retaining;- 
power  to  build  up  around  it  a  fresh  group 
of  atoms,  a  new  phenomenal  abode  in  a  fu- 
ture state  of  existence  ? 

When  we  strive  to  answer  the  question 
just  stated,  there  is  one  important  fact 
which  may  help  our  conjectures,  viz.,  tiiis: 
that  the  vital  force  which  at  j)resent  con- 
stitutes our  personality,  and  builds  it  up, 
is  perpetually  changing.  Not  for  two  mo- 
ments of  time  is  the  arrangement  of  the 
molecules  of  matter  within  any  living  or- 
ganism the  same  ;  nor  is  the  coexistence 
of  thought  and  feeling  stationary  for  a  sin- 
gle instant  within  the  mind  of  any  indi- 
vidual. Our  present  life  is  a  dynamical 
process  of  incessant  change,  of  progressive 
evolution  and  development ;  but  through- 
out this  whole  process,  our  individuality 
survives.  Individuality  is  not  only  con- 
sistent with  change,  but  change  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  it.  It  is  essential  to 
the  very  life  of  the  individual.  Why,  then, 
may  not  the  individuality  of  the  individual 
continue  after  the  larger  and  more  thor- 
oughgoing change  of  the  molecules  which 
we  call  death  .-' 


298  £SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

Add  to  this  that  we  have  no  evidence 
whatsoever  that  the  mental  phenomena  of 
the  present  life  are  the  mere  functions  of 
organization.  We  might  quite  as  well,  or 
with  equal  justice,  affirm  that  material 
phenomena  were  mere  phases  of  mind. 
All  that  we  discover  in  experience  is  that 
thoughts  and  feelings  are  associated  with 
physical  states,  and  vice  versa.  They  are 
corelated  and  coordinated,  how  we  do  not 
know.  Are  we  not  at  liberty  to  infer  that, 
if  mental  phenomena  are  not  produced  by 
ph)sical  ones,  they  are  not  tied  to  them, 
but  are  detachable  from  them  .'  It  is  true 
that  we  find  our  mental  states  heightened 
by  their  physical  accessories,  but  our 
physical  states  are  as  certainly  influenced 
by  mental  ones.  Action  and  reaction  be- 
tween them  is  reciprocal  and  complemen- 
tary. What  is  the  inference  from  their 
present  conjunction  }  Not  that  the  one  of 
necessity  ceases  when  the  other  does,  but 
that  they  are  temporary  allies,  cooperating 
now,  but  capable  of  new  affinities,  of  fresh 
groupings,  and  developments  in  another 
sphere  of  existence. 

I  shall  now  mention,  without  enlarging 
on  them,  the  more  significant  facts  belong- 


IMMORTALITY.  299 

inf^  to  our  moral  nature  wliicli  suirpjcst  the 
immortality  of  the  iiulivi(lu:il. 

There  is,  first,  the  intrinsic  character  of 
moral  life,  as  compared  with  mere  physical 
vitality.  It  is  said  that  moral  life  carries 
with  it  the  evidence  of  iiulesiructibility, 
because  there  is  nothinj^  in  human  l()\e, 
reverence,  or  devotion,  that  is  naturally 
perishable.  There  is  nothing  exclusively 
terrestrial  in  friendship.  It  is  outreaching 
and  transcendent,  in  its  inner  essence  am- 
aranthine ;  but,  if  all  is  over,  when  —  to 
human  vision  —  life  ends  at  death,  the  cjues- 
tion,  "To  what  purpose  is  this  waste.''" 
would  be  the  most  pertinent  of  inquiries. 
This  argument,  or  suL:;i;estion,  becomes 
stronger,  if  taken  in  connection  with  the 
teleological  explanation  of  the  universe,  as 
a  sphere  in  which  purpose  is  \isible,  a  sys- 
tem of  natural  means  working  towards  nat- 
ural ends.  Here  is  an  apjxiratus  within  the 
cosmic  order,  —  namely,  our  human  life, 
• — constructed  with  an  outreaching  or  jm'o- 
spcctive  element  in  it.  Is  not  this  arrange- 
ment, this  structure,  to  be  interpreted  by 
us  as  prophetic  of  the  future  1 

Secondly,  a  future  is  neeJed  for  the 
completion    of   what    is   undeveloped    here 


300  ESSAYS  IN  rHILOSOrilY. 

and  now,  for  the  maturing  of  what  at  pres- 
ent finds  no  scope  for  expansion,  and  no 
arena  in  which  to  work.  As  one,  to  whom 
the  poetic  "intimations  of  immortaUty  " 
were  specially  vivid,  has  elsewhere  written, 

Too,  too  contracted  are  these  walls  of  flesh, 

This  vital  warmth  too  cold,  these  visual  orbs. 

Though  inconceivably  endowed,  too  dim 

For  any  passion  of  the  soul  that  leads 

To  ecstasy,  and  all  the  crooked  paths 

Of  time  and  change  disdaining,  takes  its  course 

Along  the  line  of  limitless  desires. 

Thirdly,  it  is  said  that  a  future  is  needed 
for  the  rectification  of  those  moral  anoma- 
lies which  are  inexplicable  without  it,  and 
which  at  present  seem  rather  to  suggest  a 
dualistic  than  a  monotheistic  theory  of  the 
universe.  Reward  and  punishment  are 
not  now  measured  out  in  proportion  to 
the  desert  of  individuals ;  therefore  it  is 
inferred  that  the  present  life  is  but  the 
prelude  to  another,  in  which  justice  will  be 
done.  This  fact,  —  which  runs  through  all 
history,  and  is  the  secret  of  all  tragedy,  — 
viz.,  that  the  innocent  often  suffer  when 
the  guilty  escape,  suggests,  in  the  words  of 
Jouffroy,  that  "  human  life  is  a  drama,  of 
which  the  prologue  and  the  catastrophe 
are  both  wanting." 


JMMOR  TALITY.  30 1 

The  argument  may  be  altered  thus.  It 
is  elcar  that  in  this  life  all  men  do  not 
reap  as  they  sow.  Some  sow  to  the  flesh, 
and  have  the  best  of  it ;  others  sow  to  the 
spirit,  and  have  the  worst  of  it — so  far  as 
the  present  life  is  co}ieci lud.  If,  therefore, 
it  is  part  of  the  general  stream  of  tendency 
that  the  outward  and  inward  should  ulti- 
mately harmonize  —  that  virtue  and  hap- 
piness should  form  a  true  moral  equation 
—  since  they  do  not  now  run  on  parallel 
lines,  is  not  a  future  state  necessary  for 
rectification  ?  If  we  live  in  a  world  over 
which  a  great  Moral  Order  dominates, 
and  in  which  the  laws  of  conduct  are  su- 
preme, we  certainly  also  live  in  one  in 
which  these  laws  are  at  present,  in  the 
vast  majority  of  instances,  broken  down 
and  overthrown.  In  other  words,  the  ar- 
rangements of  the  universe  de  facto  are 
not  what  they  ought  to  be  de  jure.  This 
therefore  either  suggests  a  future  in  which 
there  will  be  a  readjustment,  or  it  suggests 
the  Zoroastrian  doctrine  of  a  conflict  be- 
tween the  powers  of  light  and  darkness, 
Ormuzd  and  Ahriman,  good  and  evil,  in 
eternal  strife. 

These  moral  considerations  are  not  ab- 


302  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

solute  proofs,  any  more  than  the  previous 
ones.  They  are  presumptions,  which  ripen 
into  likelihoods  ;  and  they  are  certainly 
sufficient  to  weight  the  scale  on  the  side 
of  immortality,  as  against  the  opposite  doc- 
trine. 

It  is  quite  as  important,  however,  to  note 
some  of  the  effects  of  the  presence  and  the 
absence  of  a  belief  in  immortality  on  hu- 
man conduct,  as  it  is  to  gather  evidence 
in  its  favor,  because  these  effects  may  be 
turned  into  evidence.  Let  it  be  granted 
that  on  the  theory  that  the  existence 
of  the  individual  terminates  at  death,  the 
moral  value  of  the  present  life  is  not  de- 
stroyed ;  and,  further,  that  the  anticipation 
of  immortality  does  not  usually  become  a 
motive  to  well-doing,  "in  the  case  of  those 
who  would  not  be  virtuous  without  it." 
Most  pernicious  teaching  has  sometimes 
been  put  forth  on  this  subject,  by  those 
who  have  affirmed  that  all  morality  hinges 
on  a  belief  in  immortality.  This  is  simply 
untrue  to  fact.  Belief  in  a  spiritual  Order, 
and  in  a  moral  Standard,  has  coexisted 
(whether  logically  or  not)  with  belief  in 
the  annihilation  of  man  ;  but  I  agree  with 
a    distinjruished    American    writer  on  tlie 


IMMORTALITY.  303 

subject,  who  snys  "that  the  effect  of  the 
rejection  of  the  belief  is  to  give  liie  iijreat 
motor  nerve  of  our  moral  life  a  perceptible 
stroke  of  palsy,"  and  that  the  moral  value 
of  the  belief  lies  in  these  three  thinc^s  : 
the  light  which  it  casts  on  the  otherwise 
bewildering  mysteries  of  the  j)resent,  the 
motive  it  supi)lies  for  noble  action,  and  the 
solace  which  it  yields  under  overwhelming 
disaster.  It  is  quite  true  that  our  duty 
does  not  depend  upon  the  length  of  our 
days,  but  upon  our  existing  relations  ;  but 
if  these  relations  are  contracted  within  the 
horizon  of  the  present,  an  arrest  is  laid 
upon  some  of  our  noblest  aspirations  ;  and, 
contrariwise,  where  the  belief  in  immortal- 
ity is  present,  and  regulative,  duty  is  seen 
under  a  fresh  light,  its  scope  is  widened, 
its  significance  enlarged,  and  its  pursuit 
made  easier. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  curious  things,  how- 
ever, in  the  history  of  opinion,  that  this 
belief  in  immortality  has  been  assailed  as 
hostile  to  morality,  as  egotistic  and  vain, 
as  a  selfish  idea  which  develops  selfishness 
in  those  who  cherish  it.  It  has  been  rep- 
resented as  the  outcome  of  mere  conceit 
that    any    one    should    fancy    himself    an 


304  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

exception  to  the  universal  law  that  what- 
soever appears  in  time  must  in  time  dis- 
appear. It  is  further  affirmed  that  human 
virtue  moves  most  securely  within  terres- 
trial limits,  and  that  the  forecastings  of  the 
future  which  this  belief  engenders  break 
in  upon  and  mar 

The  sober  majesties 
Of  settled  sweet  epicurean  life. 

The  prospect  of  the  future  darkens  our 
present  existence,  it  is  said,  by  its  shadow, 
or  its  menace. 

Now  such  a  result  is  only  possible  where 
the  doctrine  of  immortality  has  been  either 
travestied  or  caricatured.  It  is  the  way  in 
which  a  belief  is  cherished  that  makes  its 
effect  either  selfish  or  the  reverse,  and 
there  have  been  both  very  humble  and 
very  proud  believers  in  immortality,  just  as 
there  have  been  both  humble  and  proud 
believers  in  annihilation. 

As  to  the  influence  of  the  belief  on  con- 
duct, the  most  important  question  is  not, 
does  this  or  that  individual  hold  the  doc- 
trine }  but  does  the  doctrine  hold  them  .'' 
/.  <?.,  does  it  dominate  their  thoughts,  and 
exert  a  controlling  influence  on  conduct .' 

Now    the    doctrine    of    annihilation,    as 


IMMORTALITY.  305 

taught  in  the  materialistic  and  ai^nostic 
schools,  has  undoubtedly  given  rise  —  and 
is  much  more  likely  than  its  opixisitc  to 
give  rise  —  to  selfishness,  and  indifference 
to  other  lives  and  interests.  That  a  helief 
in  the  existence  of  an  infinite  Moral  Source 
whence  the  laws  of  conduct  emanate,  and 
in  the  continued  existence  of  finite  moral 
natures  by  whom  these  laws  are  exempli- 
fied, should  lessen  their  authority  no-iv, 
may  be  set  down  with  perfect  charity  as 
a  speculative  paradox,  a  vagary,  or  an 
intellectual  whim.  The  contrary  supposi- 
tion that  they  are  the  mere  outcome  of 
cosmic  forces  —  blind,  relentless,  and  stern 
—  which  may  go  on  devclojnng  and  evolv- 
ing others  different  from  them,  might  pos- 
sibly lower,  and  often  has  lowered,  their 
authority  ;  but  the  belief  that  they  are 
the  finite  reflection  of  an  infinite  Reality, 
and  that  there  is  a  supreme  Consciousness 
overshadowing  us,  and  answering  to  our 
limited  apprehension  of  moral  truth,  has 
always  given  force  and  point,  as  well  as 
elevation,  to  present  duty. 

The  blank  which  is  left  in  human  life,  if 
this  belief  be  removed  from  it,  is  further 
seen,    when    we    consider    the    substitutes 


306  ESS  A  YS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

proposed  to  be  put  in  its  place  ;  such,  for 
example,  as  the  immortality  of  influence, 
the  indestructibility  of  our  deeds,  which 
live  on  forever  in  their  consequences,  post 
jnoricjH  corporis.  Now,  in  the  first  place, 
the  offer  of  this  as  a  substitute  shows  that 
the  human  heart  cannot  surrender  its  be- 
lief in  immortality  without  some  compen- 
sation. But,  in  the  second  place,  to  accept 
it  as  an  equivalent  is  to  accept  a  stone  in- 
stead of  bread.  It  is  no  substitute  at  all, 
because  the  immortality  of  influence  is 
common  to  all  theories  on  the  subject.  It 
is  no  compensation  to  one  about  to  be  de- 
prived of  a  possession  for  the  spoiler  to 
say,  "  Well ;  you  may  keep  the  half  of  it," 
though  it  may  be  a  slight  mitigation  of  the 
loss.  And,  thirdly,  the  unsatisfactoriness 
of  what  remains — -this  posthumous  influ- 
ence —  is  apparent  when  one  realizes  the 
mixed  character  of  all  that  is  transmitted 
by  us.  It  is  unhappily  true  that  "  the  evil 
that  men  do  lives  after  them,  the  good  is 
oft  interred  with  their  bones  ;  "  and  if  the 
thought  of  how  our  deeds  will  tell  upon  our 
successors  be  the  sole  motive  left  to  ani- 
mate us  to  noble  or  disinterested  action,  I 
fear  it  will  become  more  and  more  atten- 


IMMOR  TA  L I  TV.  307 

iiatcd  and  va.u^ue.  It  is  too  shadowy  and 
remote  to  infUicticc  any  hut  a  select  few. 
The  masses  of  mankind,  "the  dim  common 
populations,"  cannot  talce  it  in. 

Then  there  is  the  doctrine,  which  was 
Spinoza's  substitute  for  the  immortality  of 
tiie  individual,  viz.,  that  we  have  nothin,!;  to 
do  with  duration  in  time,  because  in  our 
knowledge  of  the  Infinite  wc  transcend 
time,  and  are  now  immortal,  in  the  only 
sense  in  which  it  is  worth  thinkin*;  of 
immortality, — immortal,  that  is  to  say,  in 
virtue  of  our  escape  from  the  world  of  illu- 
sions, and  our  seeini:^  all  things  sub  specie 
(Etcriiitatis.  Spinoza,  thought  that  to  speak 
of  immortality  as  a  thing  of  the  future  was 
t )  destroy  its  very  nature,  because  if  we 
merely  think  of  an  extension  of  duration 
we  are  still  in  thralldom  to  time,  and  are 
not  therefore  really  immortal ;  and  that  we 
attain  to  immortality,  now  and  here,  simply 
by  rising  into  the  higher  sphere  of  thought, 
in  which  we  contemplate  the  universe  as 
everlasting.  But  however  true  this  may 
be  in  one  sense,  in  another  it  is  altogether 
misleading.  It  ignores  our  relation  to  the 
phenomenal  world,  and  if  we  discard  the 
notion  of    immortality  in   time,  it  will  be 


308  ESS  A  YS  IN  PHILOSOrHY. 

easy  for  the  opponents  of  the  doctrine  to 
claim  us  as  on  their  side.  It  will  be  said, 
What  is  the  value  of  an  immortality  that 
does  not  last  ?  Is  it  not  a  contradiction  in 
terms  ?  Spinoza's  view  of  immortality  is 
not  the  continuous  existence  of  mind  after 
the  body  dies,  but  merely  the  capacity  in 
the  present  life  to  rise  above  time,  and  see 
all  things  under  the  form  of  eternity.  He 
thought  that  to  look  onward  to  our  sur- 
vival in  time  was  to  explain  by  means  of 
the  temporal  what  in  its  essence  tran- 
scended time ;  and  so,  the  mere  notion 
of  eternit}'  —  into  which  the  mind  enters 
when  disillusioned  by  philosophy  —  was 
sufficient  without  any  further  idea  of  con- 
tinuance or  lastingness.  But  if  this  latter 
element,  which  is  all  in  all  to  the  opposite 
philosophy,  be  discarded,  the  present  life 
is  not  explained  ;  and  if  this  intuition  of 
the  Infinite,  which  may  be  reached  by  any 
of  us  in  time,  passes  away,  if  it  vanishes 
for  us  when  we  disappear  from  the  earth, 
what  is  its  value?  If  it  begins  and  ends 
for  us  with  our  terrestrial  lives,  may  it  not 
be  surmised  to  have  a  material  origin  alto- 
gether ? 

On  these  substitutes  for  the  survival  of 


IMMOKTALITY.  309 

the  individual  I  need  not  cnlar<;e,  hut  may 
now  point  out  some  of  the  results  wliich 
follow  from  a  rejeetion  of  the  doctrine. 

We  cannot  prove  a  helief  to  he  erroneous 
hy  merely  tracin;:^  out  its  consequences  ; 
but  the  discovery  of  startling  practical  re- 
sults, issuin;]^  inevitably  from  the  adoption 
of  a  given  theory,  may  suggest  the  likeli- 
hood of  a  flaw  somewhere  about  the  root  of 
that  theory.  Taking,  then,  past  experience 
as  our  guide,  we  may  affirm  that,  whenever 
this  belief  has  for  a  time  disappeared,  or 
fallen  away  from  the  foreground  of  con- 
sciousness, there  has  been  a  simultaneous 
decline  in  the  nobler  elements  of  civiliza- 
tion —  in  Poetry,  in  Art,  in  Philosophy,  and 
even  in  Science.  More  particularlv,  the 
affections  of  human  nature  have  suffered  ; 
their  tenderness  and  delicacy  have  b.en 
blunted.  If  they  are  but  mundane  ties, 
by  which  human  beings  are  associated  to- 
gether for  a  time,  but  which  are  snapped 
finally  at  death,  even  their  temporal  signih- 
cance  is  lessened.  Duty  becomes  an  affair 
of  custom,  of  fashion,  and  of  temperament. 
Morality,  as  we  have  said,  does  not  hinge 
upon  the  belief  in  immortality  ;  but  the 
motives  for  self-contiol   and  self-discipliiic 


310  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

are  changed,  if  we  may  legitimately  sur- 
mise that  we  have  been  evolved  out  of  the 
material  universe,  in  the  slow  progression 
of  the  ages,  and  that  it  is  our  destiny  to 
return  to  the  abyss  when  this  life  ends. 
It  is  easy  to  see  how  different  is  the  effect 
of  a  belief  that,  in  the  hints  and  sugges- 
tions of  the  moral  faculty,  we  are  acted 
upon  by  an  infinite  Intelligence  and  an  in- 
finite Personality,  and  that  our  relation  to 
that  infinitely  intelligent  Personality  is  not 
limited  to  the  present  life,  but  survives  be- 
yond it.  The  conviction  that  we  not  only 
now  live  and  move  within  the  Infinite,  and 
yet  are  distinct  from  it,  but  tJiat  wc  shall 
always  do  so,  has  a  direct  and  immediate 
influence,  and  an  "  uplifting  influence,"  on 
conduct.  With  this  conviction  removed, 
human  friendship  degenerates  to  the  level 
of  casual  acquaintanceship,  as  with  the 
herds  of  "  dumb  driven  cattle  ;  "  and  moral 
life,  with  its  sublime  struggles  towards 
a  distant  goal,  shrivels  into  commonplace, 
while  it  contracts  within  the  limits  of  the 
secular.  What  is  the  consequence  }  The 
majority  of  men  will  say,  cni  bono  f  What 
boots  it,  all  this  toil  to  reach  a  higher  life, 
if,  at  the  end  of  it,  we  sink  into  the  jaws  of 


IMMORTALITY.  31 1 

darkness,  and  cease  to  be  ?     "  Let  us  cat 
and  drink,  for  to-morrow  \vc  die." 

l^eforc  indicatin^f;  what  seems  to  be  the 
wisest  attitude  of  mind  towards  this  j-)rob- 
1cm,  wc  may  note  some  of  the  causes  wliich 
have  led  many  of  our  contemporaries  to 
throw  it  into  the  background  of  convic- 
tion, rather  than  bring  it  to  the  forefront. 
There  is,  first,  the  speculative  mystery 
into  which  the  belief  runs  up.  There  is, 
ne.\t,  the  necessary  absence  of  any  experi- 
mental evidence  in  regard  to  it.  Again, 
there  is  the  difficulty  of  granting  immor- 
tality to  man,  and  denying  it  to  the  higher 
animals  that  resemble  him  in  many  ways  ; 
and  the  impossibility  of  granting  the  lat- 
ter, and  stopping  short  at  any  point  in  the 
chain  of  organized  life.  Further,  there  is 
the  natural  recoil  which  many  feel  from 
the  over- dogmatic  confidence  with  which 
the  future  has  been  spoken  of,  and  the 
gross  material  conceptions  which  have 
been  entertained  of  it ;  and  also  an  equally 
natural  recoil  from  the  asceticism  that 
undervalues  the  present  life,  because  of  the 
tremendousness  of  its  sequel.  These  are 
natural  reactions.  Then,  there  is  the  ab- 
sorption of  mind  and  of  interest  in  things 


312  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOIHY. 

material,  which  is  so  marked  a  feature  of 
our  age,  the  stream  of  tendency  setting 
strongly  towards  a  physical  explanation  of 
spiritual  phenomena.  Further,  there  is  a 
feeling  of  life-weariness,  of  the  burden  of 
existence  after  a  time,  and  with  this  the 
inclination  to  lay  it  down,  to  escape  from 
the  present  turmoil  by  an  absorption  like 
that  of  Nirvana,  —  the  feeling  that,  if 
finally  we  sleep,  w^e  shall  do  well.  The 
loss  of  faith  in  the  future  which  arises  from 
this  feeling  of  life-weariness,  accompanied 
by  a  loss  of  interest  in  life  itself,  has  some- 
times spread  through  a  whole  community, 
or  historic  period  ;  but  it  docs  not  last.  At 
least  it  does  not  last  with  us  in  the  West. 
It  is  more  an  Eastern  than  a  Western  ten- 
dency, due  perhaps  to  mental,  moral,  and 
physical  causes  combined. 

Another  phase  of  the  difficulty  at  times 
oppresses  most  men  in  the  West,  as  well 
as  the  Orientals  ;  and  there  arc  moods 
of  mind  in  which  it  appeals  to  all  who 
think  deeply  and  reverently  on  the  sub- 
ject. Doubt  as  to  immortality  may  be  due 
to  humility.  It  may  spring  from  a  sense 
of  the  poverty  of  our  faculties,  and  the 
tremendous  enigma  which  the  problem  — 


IMMORTALITY.  3(3 

when  all  has  been  said  about  it  —  pre- 
sents to  them.  I  have  mentioned  some 
features  of  that  enigna.  Here  is  anotlier 
aspect  of  it.  Wc  can  watch  the  be_L,dnnin<;s 
of  hfe  on  this  earth,  we  know  iiow  the  gen- 
erations succeed  each  other  by  a  process 
of  development,  in  reference  to  which  ex- 
perience is  our  guide  ;  but  we  have  no 
similar  evidence  of  the  survival  of  any 
single  creature  after  its  life  on  earth  has 
been  cut  short  by  death. 

Perhaps  the  chief  question  is  not  whether 
we  are  to  survive  .''  but  in  what  form  is 
the  survival  to  be  experienced  }  What 
ki)id  of  immortality  is  to  be  ours  }  What 
is  it  to  be,  and  ivJicre  is  it  to  be.'  Will 
we  survive  with  our  present  identitv,  our 
moral  individuality,  retained  .■'  and  will  we, 
in  the  next  stage,  be  conscious  oi  the  re- 
lations we  have  sustained  to  this  life  as  it 
now  is  }  On  these  points,  we  have  very 
little  light.  Doubtless,  unless  wc  retained 
an  individuality  of  some  sort,  it  would  not 
be  ivc  who  survived.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  there  not  a  very  great  deal  al)Out 
this  present  life  that  is  of  necessity  tran- 
sient .''  and  are  there  not  many  things  that 
we  fain  would  lose  }     Verv  few  desire  to 


314  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

remain  what  they  arc,  and  as  they  are. 
Perhaps  the  absolute  loss  of  a  large  part  of 
present  experience  would  be  to  the  major- 
ity of  us  a  positive  gain  ;  and  yet,  unless 
we  who  have  played  our  part  on  the  stage 
of  this  life  continue,  with  remcmberable 
ties  connecting  us  with  it,  and  possessed 
of  afifinities  that  remain  unchanged  though 
enlarged,  how  can  immortality  in  any  sense 
be  ours  ? 

The  whole  problem  is  beset  with  dififi- 
culties,  both  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the 
left.  Our  truest  and  wisest  attitude  toward 
it  is  one  of  tranquil  hope  and  devout  ex- 
pectancy, tempered  by  cheerful  acquies- 
cence ;  while  we  hail  any  further  light  that 
may  be  vouchsafed  to  others,  through  the 
happy  auguries  of  a  reverent  outlook.  This 
mood  of  mind  has  been  well  expressed  in 
one  of  Wordsworth's  sonnets,  in  which  he 
likens  our  present  life  to  that  of  a  bird 
that  has  entered  a  lighted  room  from 
the  outside  darkness  and  cold,  that  flutters 
within  it  for  a  while,  and  then  departs. 

Man's  life  is  like  a  Sparrow,  mighty  King  I 
That  —  while  at  banquet  with  your  chiefs  you  sit 
Housed  near  a  blazing  fire,  —  is  seen  to  flit 
Safe  from  the  wintry  tempest.     Fluttering, 


IMMOR  TALITY.  3 1  5 

Here  did  it  enter ;  there,  on  hasty  wing 

Flies  out,  and  [)asse.s  on  from  cold  to  cold  ; 

lint  whence  it  came  we  know  not,  nor  behold 

Whither  it  goes.     Mven  such  that  transient  Thing, 

The  human  Soul  ;  not  utterly  unknown 

While  in  the  Hody  lodged,  her  warm  abode  ; 

But  from  what  world  She  came,  what  woe  or  weal 

On  her  dci)arture  waits,  no  tongue  hath  shown  ; 

This  mystery  if  the  Stranger  can  reveal, 

His  be  a  welcome  cordially  bestowed. 


THE   DOCTRINE    OF    METEMPSY- 
CHOSIS. 

It  seems  surprising  that  in  the  discus- 
sions of  contemporary  philosophy  on  ihe 
origin  and  destiny  of  the  soul,  there  has 
been  no  explicit  revival  of  the  doctrines  of 
Preexistence  and  Metempsychosis.  What- 
ever may  be  their  intrinsic  worth,  or  evi- 
dential value,  their  title  to  rank  on  the  roll 
of  philosophical  hypotheses  is  undoubted. 
They  offer  quite  as  remarkable  a  solution 
of  the  mystery  which  all  admit  as  the  rival 
theories  of  Creation,  Traduction,  and  Ex- 
tinction. 

What  I  propose  is  not  so  much  to  defend 
the  doctrines,  as  to  restate  them  ;  to  dis- 
tinguish between  their  several  forms  ;  to 
indicate  the  speculative  grounds  on  which 
the  most  rational  of  them  may  be  main- 
tained ;  to  show  how  it  fits  as  well  into  a 
theistic  as  into  a  pantheistic  theory  of  the 
universe  ;  and  to  point  out  the  difficulties 
in  the  ethical  problem  which  it  lightens  if 
it  does  not  remove. 


DOC  TKINE   OF  ME  TEMPS  Yd/OS  IS.     3  1 7 

The  question  may  be  best  approaclicd 
by  a  statement  of  the  chief  didficiilty  which 
seems  to  block  the  way  to  a  belief  in  Im- 
mortahty, — arising  out  of  the  ahnost  uni- 
versal acceptance  of  the  doctrine  of  Invo- 
lution as  explanatory  of  i)hysical  existence, 
—  and  one  of  the  considerations  by  which 
it  has  been  met.  This  will  leatl,  by  natural 
sequence,  to  the  theories  in  question. 

The  difficulty  is  this.  Admittini;'  the  de- 
velopment of  man  out  of  prior  conditions, 
and  retaining  a  belief  in  his  immortality,  a 
point  must  have  been  reached  when  a  mor- 
tal predecessor  gave  rise  to  an  immortal 
successor.  If  all  that  now  is  has  issued 
inexorably  out  of  what  once  was,  and  the 
human  race  been  gradually  evolved  out  of 
a  prior  type,  we  have  but  three  alternatives 
to  choose  from  :  either,  first,  the  whole 
series  is  mortal  ;  or,  second,  the  whole  is 
immortal  ;  or,  third,  a  long  series  of  mortal 
ancestors  gave  place,  at  a  leap  and  a  bound, 
to  an  immortal  descendant,  the  father  of  a 
race  of  immortals.  There  is  no  otb.er  pos- 
sible alternative,  if  we  admit  a  process  of 
development.  The  first  of  the  three  may 
be  set  aside  meanwhile,  since  it  is  the  doc- 
trine of  the  natural  mortality  or  extinction 


3 1 8  ESS  A  YS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  the  individual.  The  second  presents  the 
insuperable  difficulty  of  the  continued  ex- 
istence in  a  separate  form  of  all  the  living 
creatures  that  have  ever  appeared  on  the 
stage  of  being;  because  it  is  impossible  to 
draw  a  line  anywhere  amongst  them,  and 
say  that  the  dog  is  immortal  but  the  reptile 
is  not  ;  or  that  the  reptile  is,  while  the  bee 
and  the  ant  are  not ;  or  that  they  are,  while 
the  myriad  tribes  of  the  protozoa  are  not. 
We  are,  therefore,  limited  to  the  third  hy- 
pothesis, viz.,  that  a  point  was  reached 
when  immortality  was  evolved  ;  that  is  to 
say,  that  the  power  of  surviving  the  shock 
of  dissolution  was  non-existent  for  ages,  but 
that  it  became  real  in  a  moment  of  time, 
when  the  mortal  creature  that  preceded 
man  gave  birth  to  one  who  was  an  "  heir 
of  immortality."  In  stating  the  problem 
thus,  I  merely  indicate  the  logical  result  of 
admitting  the  principle  of  Evolution  as  ex- 
planatory of  physical  existence,  and  con- 
joining with  it  the  doctrine  of  Immortality. 
The  derivation  of  the  human  body  from 
a  lower  type  is  quite  consistent  with  the 
latter  doctrine,  because  the  body  is  not 
immortal.  It  is,  besides,  a  much  worthier 
notion,  and  more  in  keeping  with  analogy, 


DOCrRIXE   OF  METEMrSYClIOSIS.     319 

to  suppose  that  the  body  was  formed  by 
natural  process  out  of  a  jMexious  animal 
organization,  than  to  ima<;ine  it  to  have 
been  instantaneously  createtl  out  of  the  rn- 
organic  dust  of  the  world.  lUit  was  the 
human  soul  similarly  evolved  (Jut  of  the 
vital  principal  of  the  previous  races?  Was 
the  ^(o>;  of  the  animal  the  parent  of  the  i/i'\'>/, 
or  TTievfjia,  in  man  ?  If  we  answer  in  the 
affirmative  we  adopt  the  development  the- 
ory in  its  completest  form  ;  and  it  is  certain 
that  man  cannot  be  immortal.  His  race 
may  be  permanent  (although,  by  the  hy- 
pothesis, it  is  perpetually  altering),  but  the 
individuals  composing  it  cannot  live  forever. 
It  is  impossible,  in  short,  that  Immortality 
can  be  a  prerogative  evolved  out  of  mortal- 
ity, because  the  one  is  separated  from  the 
other,  to  use  an  expressive  phrase  of  Nor- 
ris's,  "  by  the  whole  diameter  of  being." 
This  is  the  difficulty  in  question. 

It  has  been  met,  or  attempted  to  be  met, 
by  the  following  consideration.  It  is  al- 
leged that  the  case  was  precisely  the  same 
in  reference  to  the  first  immortal  evolved 
out  of  a  mortal  ancestor,  as  it  is  in  refer- 
ence to  any  of  his  descendants  ;  because, 
in    both  cases,  the   beginnings  of    life    are 


320  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOFIIY. 

similar.  These  may  be  physiologically 
traced  ;  and  a  point  is  always  reached  when 
a  possible  mortality  is  averted.  The  "first 
beginnings  of  individual  life,"  says  Mr. 
Picton,  "do  not  involve  immortality:  and 
when  such  an  incipient  merely  germinant 
life  deceases,  it  perishes  utterly."  There 
must  be  a  period  reached,  therefore,  at 
which  immortality  begins.  "  If  an  individ- 
ual died  one  moment  before  a  certain  time 
he  would  be  annihilated :  whereas,  if  he 
survives  a  moment  longer,  he  will  live  for- 
ever."^ And  so  it  is  thought  that  a  time 
comes  when  the  personality  of  the  indi- 
vidual matures,  when  "  his  isolation  grows 
defined,"  and  he  is  thenceforward  able  to 
"survive  the  shock  of  death;"  whereas, 
had  his  bodily  organization  perished  one 
moment  earlier,  his  destiny  would  have 
been  simply  to  remerge  in  the  general 
whole.  Thus,  the  immaterial  principle, 
which  in  a  thousand  cases  dies  and  passes 
into  some  other  form  of  immaterial  energy, 
survives  in  the  case  of  others,  and  wins 
permanence  for  itself  by  successfully  re- 
sisting the  first  perils  of  independent  life. 
Such  is  the  rejoinder. 

1  Ncu)  Theories  and  the  Old  Faith,  p.  199. 


DOCTKLXE   OF  METKM  PSYCHOS  IS.     321 

I  cannot  think  this  way  of  escaping;  tlic 
difficulty  a  satisfactory  one,  unless  the  piin- 
cij^le  which  survives  is  believed  to  have  ex- 
isted pre\'iously  in  some  other  form.  The 
difference  between  immortalitv  and  mor- 
tality is  not  one  of  degree.  It  is  literally 
infinite,  and  the  one  can  never  gi\c  rise  to 
the  other.  The  immortal  cannot,  in  tlie 
nature  of  thin^^,  be  developed  out  of  the 
mortal.  A  creature  endowed  with  feeble 
powers  of  life  may  originate  another  en- 
dowed with  stronger  powers,  which  will 
therefore  live  longer,  and  be  able  to  sur- 
vive the  storms  which  have  shipwrecked 
its  feebler  ancestors  ;  but  this  is  a  totally 
different  thing  from  the  evolution  of  an 
immortal  progeny  out  of  a  scries  of  mortal 
predecessors.  Let  us  su[)pose,  however, 
that  the  immortal  has  descended,  that  it 
has  "  lapsed  from  higher  place,"  or  that  it 
has  ascended,  risen  from  some  hnver  s])here, 
immortality  may  then  belong  to  i's  very 
essence.  It  may,  in  its  inmost  nature,  be 
incapable  of  death,  its  destiny  being  a 
perpetual  transmigration,  or  renewal  of  ex- 
istence. The  distinction  between  a  theory 
of  evolution  (which  admits  immortalit}')  and 
that  of    transmiijration  is  immense.     Ac- 


322  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

cording  to  the  former,  man  at  a  definite 
moment  of  time  emerged  out  of  the  animal, 
and  the  power  of  surviving  the  shock  of 
death  was  conferred  upon  him,  or  won  by 
him,  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  Accord- 
ing to  the  latter,  man  was  always  immortal ; 
before  he  entered  the  present  life  he  ex- 
isted in  another  state,  and  he  will  survive 
the  destruction  of  his  present  body  simply 
because  his  soul,  which  is  intrinsically 
deathless,  passes  into  a  new  body,  or  re- 
mains temporarily  unembodied.  The  dif- 
ference is  immense.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  distinction  between  the  theory  of  trans- 
migration and  that  of  absorption  is  equally 
great.  According  to  the  one,  the  soul 
retains  its  individuality  and  preserves  its 
identity  through  all  the  changes  it  under- 
goes ;  according  to  the  other,  its  individu- 
ality is  lost,  although  its  vital  force 'sur- 
vives as  an  ineradicable  constituent  of  the 
universe. 

The  doctrine  of  Metempsychosis  is  theo- 
retically extremely  simple.  Its  root  is  the 
indestructibility  of  the  vital  principle.  Let 
a  belief  in  preexistence  be  joined  to  that 
of  posthumous  existence,  and  the  dogma 
is  complete.      It  is   thus   at   one   and   the 


DOCTRINE   OF  METEMPSYCHOSIS.     323 

same  time  a  theory  of  the  soul's  orif^in,  aiul 
of  its  destination  ;  and  its  unparalleled  IkjIcI 
upon  the  human  race  may  be  explained  in 
part  by  the  fact  of  its  combining  both  in  a 
single  doctrine.  It  appears  as  one  of  the 
very  earliest  beliefs  of  the  human  mind  in 
tribes  not  emerged  from  barl)arism.  It 
remains  the  creed  of  millions  at  this  day. 
It  is  probably  the  most  widely-spread  and 
permanently  influential  of  all  speculative 
theories  as  to  the  origin  and  destiny  of  the 
soul. 

In  a  single  paragraph  its  history  may  be 
sketched,  though  in  the  most  condensed  and 
cursory  manner.  It  has  lain  at  the  heart 
of  all  Indian  speculation  on  the  subject, 
time  out  of  mind.  It  is  one  of  the  cardinal 
doctrines  of  the  Vedas,  and  one  of  the  roots 
of  Buddhist  belief.  The  ancient  Egyptians 
held  it.  It  is  prominent  in  their  great 
classic,  the  "  Book  of  the  Dead."  In  Per- 
sia, it  colored  the  whole  stream  of  Zoroas- 
trian  thought.  The  Magi  taught  it.  The 
Jews  brought  it  with  them  from  the  cap- 
tivity in  Babylon.  Many  of  the  Ii^ssenes 
and  Pharisees  held  it.  Though  foreign  to 
the  genius  both  of  Judaism  and  Christian- 
ity, it  has  had  its  advocates  (as  Delitzsch 


324  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

puts  it)  "as  well  in  the  synagogue  as  in 
the  church."  The  Cabbala  teaches  it  em- 
phatically. The  Apocrypha  sanctions  it, 
and  it  is  to  be  found  scattered  throughout 
the  Talmud.  In  Greece,  Pythagoras  pro- 
claimed it,  receiving  the  hint  probably  both 
from  Egypt  and  the  East ;  Empedocles 
taught  it  ;  Plato  worked  it  elaborately  out, 
not  as  a  mythical  doctrine  embodying  a 
moral  truth,  but  as  a  philosophical  theory 
or  conviction.  It  passed  over  into  the 
Neo-Flatonic  School  at  Alexandria.  Philo 
held  it.  Plotinus  and  Porphyry  in  the  third 
century,  Jamblicus  in  the  fourth,  Hierocles 
and  Proclus  in  the  fifth,  all  advocated  it  in 
various  ways  ;  and  an  important  modifica- 
tion of  the  Platonic  doctrine  took  place 
amongst  the  Alexandrians,  when  Porphyry 
limited  the  range  of  the  metempsychosis, 
denying  that  the  souls  of  men  ever  passed 
downwards  to  a  lower  than  the  human 
state.  Many  of  the  fathers  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church  espoused  it ;  notably  Origen. 
It  was  one  of  the  Gnostic  doctrines.  The 
Manichaeans  received  it,  with  much  else, 
from  their  Zoroastrian  predecessors.  It 
was  held  by  Nemesius,  who  emphatically 
declares  that  all  the  Greeks  who  believed 


DOCTRINE    OF  METEMPSYCIIOSIS.     325 

in  immortality  believed  also  in  mctemj^y- 
chosis.  There  are  hints  of  it  in  Hocthius. 
Thouc^h  condemned,  in  its  Origenistic 
form,  by  the  Council  of  Constantinople  in 
551,  it  passed  along  the  stream  of  Chris- 
tian theology,  and  reappeared  amongst  the 
Scholastics  in  Erigena  and  ]k)naventura. 
It  was  defended  with  much  learning  and 
acuteness  by  several  of  the  Cambridge  Pla- 
tonists,  esj)ecially  by  Henry  More.  Glan- 
vill  devotes  a  curious  treatise  to  it,  the 
"  Lux  Orientalis."  I'2nglish  clergy  and  Irish 
bishops  were  found  ready  to  esj)ouse  it. 
Many  English  poets,  from  Henry  Vaughan 
to  Wordsworth,  praise  it.  It  app'jaled  to 
Hume,  as  more  rational  than  the  rival  the- 
ories of  Creation  and  Traduction.  It  has 
points  of  contact  with  the  anthropology  of 
Kant  and  Schelling.  It  found  an  earnest 
advocate  in  Lessing.  Herder  also  main- 
tained it,  while  it  fascinated  the  minds  of 
Fourier  and  Lerrou.x.  Soame  Jenyns,  the 
Chevalier  Ramsay,  and  many  others  have 
written  in  its  defense.  If  we  may  broad'y 
classify  philosophical  systems  as  a  priori 
or  a  posteriori,  intuitional  or  experiential, 
Platonist  or  Aristotelian,  this  doctrine  will 
be  found   to  ally  itself,  both   speculatively 


326  £SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

and  histoiically,  with  the  former  school  of 
thought. 

Passing  from  the  schools  to  the  instinc- 
tive ideas  of  primitive  men,  or  the  concep- 
tions now  entertained  by  races  half-civ- 
ilized or  wholly  barbarous,  a  belief  in 
transmigration  will  be  found  to  be  almost 
universal.  It  is  inwoven  with  nearly  all 
the  mythology  of  the  world.  It  appears  in 
Mexico  and  in  Tibet,  amongst  the  negroes 
and  the  Hawaiian  Islanders.  It  comes 
down  from  the  Druids  of  ancient  Gaul  to 
the  Tasmanians  of  to-day.  The  stream 
of  opinion,  whether  instinctive,  mystic,  or 
rational,  is  continuous  and  broad  ;  and  if 
we  could  legitimately  determine  any  ques- 
tion of  belief  by  the  number  of  its  adher- 
ents, ihe  quod  semper,  quod  Jthique,  quod  ab 
omnibus,  would  apply  to  this  more  fitly 
than  to  any  other.  Mr.  Tylor  speaks  of  it 
("  Primitive  Culture,"  ch.  xii.)  as  now  "  ar- 
rested and  unprogrcssive,"  or  lingering 
only  as  "an  intellectual  crotchet."  It  may 
be  so  ;  but  I  think  it  quite  as  likel}'  to  be 
revix'ed,  and  to  come  to  the  front  again,  as 
any  ri\'al  theory  on  the  subject,  when  the 
decay  that  is  the  fate  of  every  system  of 
opinion    overtakes  those    that   are    in   the 


DOCTRINE   OF  METEMPSYCHOSIS.      327 

place  of  honor  and  rccot^nition  now.  luich 
philosophical  ch)ctrinc  hcin-i^,  in  tlic  nature 
of  thini^s,  only  a  partial  interpretation  of 
the  universe,  or  an  approximate  solution  of 
the  mystery  of  existence,  is  in  its  turn  set 
aside  as  inadequate;  while  all  the  ^i;reater 
ones  invariably  reap{)ear  under  altcretl 
forms.  The  resuscitation  of  discarded 
theories  is  as  inevitable  as  the  modifica- 
tions which  they  un(]er;;"o  in  the  j^rocess  of 
revival.  INIetempsychosis  is  true  of  all 
theories,  whether  it  applies  to  souls  or  not. 
There  are  three  possible  forms  of  the 
doctrine.  Logi^^ally  four  may  be  hekl,  but 
only  three  are  philosophically  tenable. 
Either,  first,  it  may  be  maintained  that  the 
metempsychosis  is  imivcrsal,  extenclinf;  to 
all  finite  forms  of  life,  so  that  the  hiLchest 
may  change  place  with  the  lowest,  and 
vice  versa.  The  life  that  was  in  man  may 
degenerate,  or  pass  downwards  into  the 
animal ;  or  the  life  that  was  in  the  animal 
may  rise,  and  pass  upwards  into  man  ;  the 
winding  stream  of  development  flowing 
either  way,  and  the  particular  direction 
which  the  current  takes  being  determined 
by  the  internal  state  of  tlie  individual. 
There  mav  be  thus,  on  the  one  hand,  deg- 


328  /iSSAVS  IN  rillLOSOPHY. 

radation  and  descent ;  on  the  other,  eleva- 
tion and  ascent,  through  a  perpetual  cycle 
of  successive  births  and  deaths.  Or,  sec- 
ond, the  transmigration  may  be  lin^iited  to 
the  animal  world,  and  denied  to  the  human. 
It  is  a  conceivable  and  may  seem  a  plausi- 
ble hypothesis,  to  those  who  shrink  from 
extending  the  transmigration  to  man,  that 
it  applies  solely  to  the  lower  orders  of  ex- 
istence, that  the  life  of  an  animal  is  lost 
or  "  blown  out,"  but  that  on  the  destruc- 
tion of  its  organization,  the  vital  force  re- 
merges,  and  is  continued  in  some  other 
form.  (The  supposition  which  is  logically 
distinct  from  this,  but  which  is  not  phil- 
osophically tenable,  is  the  contrary  one, 
that  the  transmigration  holds  good  of  man 
onlv,  and  does  not  extend  to  the  animal 
world.)  The  third  form  of  the  theory  is 
that  the  transmigration  may  apply  both  to 
the  human  and  to  the  animal  world  ;  but 
that  in  each  case  it  is  strictly  limited  to 
one  sphere,  that  is  to  say,  that  the  souls  of 
men  animate  successive  bodies,  but  that 
they  never  descend  to  a  lower  level,  while 
the  vital  spirit  of  the  animal  never  ascends 
into  the  human  form.  This  was  practi- 
cally the  development  which  the  Pythago- 


DOCTRINE    OF  METEMrSYClIOSlS.     329 

rcan  and  Platonic  doctrine  took,  under 
Pv.rpliyry  and  others,  in  the  Alexandrian 
scItooI.  Thus,  metempsychosis  may  l^e 
either,  first,  a  law  or  process  rc-ulalint; 
the  universal  development  of  lite  on  our 
planet,  or,  second,  a  cyclical  movement 
along  one  line,  and  confined  to  one  group 
of  existences  ;  or,  third,  it  may  be  a  move- 
ment along  two  definite  lines,  but  strictly 
limited  to  these  lines. 

There  were  certain  very  obvious  facts, 
which  gave  rise  to  the  belief  among  i)rini- 
itive  races,  and  others  less  prominent, 
though  of  a  higher  order,  which  suggested 
it  to  the  more  meditative  spirits  of  anti- 
quity. The  inferences  may  have  been  illog- 
ically  drawn  but  the  natural  history  of  a 
doctrine  is  one  thing,  its  philosophical  valid- 
ity is  another ;  and  the  historical  develop- 
ment of  a  belief  does  not  always  or  usually 
follow  the  lines  of  scientific  evidence.  The 
student  of  the  history  of  civilization  is  fa- 
miliar with  this  fact,  that  reasonings  which 
are  philosophically  worthless  have  fre- 
quently led  to  conclusions  which  are  at 
least  highly  probable  ;  just  as  beliefs  which 
are  demonstratively  true  have  often  been 
sustained  by  arguments  radically  unsound. 


330  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

The  superficial  resemblances  between 
the  lower  animals  and  men,  in  feature,  dis- 
position, and  character,  in  voice  and  mien, 
suggested  to  the  primitive  races  the  prob- 
ability that  tlie  bodies  of  animals  were 
inhabited  by  human  souls,  and  those  of 
men  by  animal  natures.  The  intelligence 
and  feeling  of  the  brutes,  their  half-human 
character,  as  well  as  the  brutality  of  some 
men,  seemed  an  evidence  that  their  respec- 
tive souls  or  vital  principles  had  exchanged 
places.  They  saw  the  cunning  of  the  fox, 
and  the  fierceness  of  the  tiger,  in  their 
comrades.  They  also  learned  the  fidelity 
of  a  friend  from  the  rare  attachment  and 
devotion  of  their  dogs.  As  they  were  in 
the  habit  of  describing  the  qualities  of  men 
by  these  surface  resemblances,  as  leonine, 
currish,  vulpine,  etc.,  —  and,  I'ice  versa,  of 
describing  the  characteristics  of  animals 
by  terms  originally  applied  to  their  own 
race,  —  it  was  a  natural,  though  not  a  logi- 
cal, inference  that  their  respective  vital 
principles  were  interchangeable.  In  short, 
the  rare  humanity  of  some  animals,  and 
the  notorious  animality  of  some  men,  sug- 
gested to  the  primitive  races,  not  the  com- 
mon origin  of  both,  but  the  arbitrary  pas- 
sacre  of  one  into  the  other. 


DOCTKIXE   OF  METEMrSYCIIOSIS.     331 

In  addition,  family  likcncssc^s  bcinj^ 
transmitted,  and  reappearing;  after  an  in- 
terval of  {]jencrations,  su<i^;;ested  the  return 
of  the  spirits  of  the  dead  within  a  new 
physical  organization.  Mere  facial  resem- 
blances led  the  common  mind  to  believe 
in  the  recmbodiment  of  souls.  Still  more 
significantly,  the  appearance  of  mental  fea- 
tures resembling  those  of  any  noted  person 
in  the  past,  suggested  the  actual  return  of 
the  departed.  If  one  resembled  his  ances- 
tors somewhat  closely  in  intellect  or  valor, 
in  temperament  or  style  of  action,  it  was 
supposed  that  the  ancestor  had  again  put 
on  the  vesture  of  the  fljsh,  and  "revisited 
the  glimpses  of  the  moon."  The  sj^irit  of 
the  master  being  seen  in  the  pupil  seemed 
a  hint  of  the  same  thing  ;  and  the  notion 
that  one  of  the  dead  had  returned  to  reani- 
mate another  body  very  naturally  grew  out 
of  these  obvious  concrete  facts.  It  need 
scarcely  be  said  that  the  deduction  is 
wholly  unwarrantable,  and  the  argument 
illusory.  An  illogical  inference,  founded 
on  some  surface  analogy,  has  frequently 
given  rise  to  a  belief,  which  has  grown 
strong  in  the  total  absence  of  valid  evidence 
in  its  favor.      For  example,  the  spirit  of  a 


332  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

master  usually  appears  in  his  pupil  most 
conspicuously  when  both  arc  living,  or 
shortly  after  the  death  of  the  master,  and 
when  his  soul  cannot  have  entered  his 
pupil,  unless  he  became  the  recipient  of 
two  souls.  Further,  there  is  no  reason  to 
believe  that  if  metempsychosis  took  place, 
the  new  manifestations  of  mind  and  char- 
acter would  be  similar  to  the  old  ones. 
They  would  much  more  likely  be  widely 
different.  It  would  give  us  a  poor  notion 
of  any  spirit  that  reappeared  within  the  old 
limits,  if  it  merely  reproduced  its  past  ac- 
tions. Such  a  procedure  would  be  as  dis 
appointing  as  those  inane  utterances  of  the 
dead  with  which  modern  Spiritualism  pre- 
tends to  be  familiar.  If  the  spirits  of  the 
departed  make  any  progress  in  knowledge 
and  experience,  we  would  expect  to  find 
something  very  different  from  a  repetition 
of  their  former  mode  of  activity.  The  argu- 
ment is  quite  illusory. 

A  third  one  is  much  more  worthy  of  con 
sideration.  It  arises  out  of  certain  psycho- 
logical facts,  which  have  seemed  to  warrant 
the  inference  of  the  soul's  preexistence. 
Quite  suddenly  a  thought  is  darted  into 
the  mind,  which  cannot  be  traced  back  to 


DOCTRINE   OF  METE.^f PSYCHOS  IS.     333 

any  source  in  past  experience  ;  or  we  hear 
a  sound,  see  an  object,  cxjierience  sensa- 
tions, which  seem  to  take  us  wholly  out  of 
the  circle  of  sense-perception  that  has 
been  possible  to  us  in  the  prcsi'ut  life. 
This  is  one  of  the  ari^uments  of  the 
Phnsdo  ;  and  it  is  the  central  thou,:;ht  of 
Wordsworth's  magnificent  "Ode  on  the 
Intimations  of  Immortality  from  Recollec- 
tions of  Childhood."  The  "  splendor  in  the 
grass,"  and  "  glory  in  the  flower,"  which 
Wordsworth  saw  and  felt  in  childhood,  he 
explains  by  their  being  the  dim  memory 
of  a  brighter  experience  that  was  passed  ; 
a  recovered  fragment  of  ante-natal  life  — 

Not  in  entire  forgetfulncss, 

And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 

I5ut  trailing  clouds  of  glory  do  we  come,  etc. 

On  the  one  hand,  the  halo  with  which 
memory  surrounds  our  childhood,  and,  on 
the  other,  the  melancholy  awakened  by  a 
sense  of  its  being  irrecoverably  gone,  have 
suggested  the  idea  that  w^e  look  back,  as 
through  a  golden  gateway,  to  the  glory  of 
a  dawn  preceding  it. 

The  soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  star 
Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 
And  Cometh  from  afar. 


334  JSSSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

This  is  also  one  of  the  arguments  adduced 
by  Gautama,  the  reputed  founder  of  the 
Nyaya  system  of  Indian  Philosophy.  I 
quote  from  the  aphorisms  of  the  Nyaya, 
published  for  the  Benares  College,  at  Alla- 
habad. "Joy,  fear,  and  grief,"  he  says, 
"  arise  to  him  that  is  born,  through  relation 
to  his  memory  of  things  previously  expe- 
rienced." And  this  aphorism  is  thus  com- 
mented upon  by  one  of  Gautama's  pupils, 
Viswanatha :  "If  joy  arises  before  the 
causes  of  joy  are  experienced,  the  child 
must  have  existed  in  a  previous  life."  And 
so  the  subtile  Indian  metaphysic  said,  "  If 
in  one  life,  then  in  a  series,  and  an  illimita- 
ble series  ;  and  there  being  no  beginning, 
it  is  indestructible,  and  can  have  no  end. 
Gautama  endeavored  to  prove  the  same 
thing  from  the  psychological  phenomena 
of  desire.  "  We  see  nothing  born  void  of 
desire."  Since  every  creature  experiences 
desires  which  seek  satisfaction  before  there 
is  any  experience  of  what  can  satisfy  them, 
Gautama  and  his  commentator  trace  this 
back  to  knowledge  acquired  in  a  previous 
life. 

Both  arguments  are  inconclusive.     The 
first  set  of  phenomena  referred  to  by  Plato, 


DOCTRIXE  OF  METEMPSYCHOSIS.     335 

and  by  the  I'latonic  poets  so  often,  can  he 
explained  otlierwisc  than  by  the  hypotli- 
csis  of  i)recxistenco.  In  dreams,  notions 
seemingly  the  most  tliscordant  unite,  and 
our  whole  consciousness  sometimes  i)asses 
into  a  chaotic  or  amor[)h()us  state.  As  to 
the  second  set  of  phenomena  appealed  to 
by  Gautama,  if  instinctive  desire  demands 
a  previous  life  to  explain  it,  the  same  in- 
stinct in  that  life  requires  one  still  prior, 
and  so  on  ad  i>iji>iiticj)i.  And  the  action 
of  instinctive  desire  can  be  easily  exjjlained 
as  the  growth  of  experience,  or  the  result 
of  a  scries  of  tentative  efforts  which  seek, 
and  continue  to  seek,  satisfaction,  till  they 
find  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  while  these  sugges- 
tions of  instinct  and  of  reminiscence  seem 
invalid,  the  absence  of  any  memory  of  ac- 
tions done  in  a  previous  state  cannot  be 
a  conclusive  argument  against  our  having 
lived  through  it.  Forgetfulncss  of  the 
past  may  be  one  of  the  conditions  of  en- 
trance upon  a  new  stage  of  existence. 
The  body,  which  is  the  organ  of  sense-per- 
ception, may  be  quite  as  much  a  hindrance 
as  a  help  to  reminiscence.  As  Plotinus 
said,  "matter  is  the   true  river  of  Lethe: 


336  £SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

immersed  in  it,  the  soul  forgets  every- 
thing." In  that  case  casual  gleams  of 
memory,  giving  us  sudden,  abrupt,  and  mo- 
mentary revelations  of  the  past,  are  pre- 
cisely the  phenomena  we  would  expect  to 
meet  with.  If  the  soul  has  preexisted, 
what  we  would  a  priori  anticipate  are  only 
some  faint  traces  of  recollection,  surviving 
in  the  crypts  of  memory. 

One  of  the  main  objections  brought 
against  the  doctrine  of  preexistence  —  an 
objection  which  seems  insuperable  to  the 
popular  mind  —  is  the  total  absence  of  any 
authentic  or  verifiable  memory  of  the  past. 
It  is  supposed  that  if  we  cannot  remember 
a  former  life,  it  is  all  the  same  as  if  it  never 
was  ours  ;  for  the  thread  of  identity  must 
be  a  conscious  one.  This,  however,  is  just 
what  its  advocates  deny.  They  appeal  to 
the  latent  elements  which  underUe  our 
present  consciousness,  out  of  which  the 
clearest  knowledge  arises  ;  and  they  main- 
tain that  there  is  a  hidden  world  of  the  un- 
conscious in  W'hich  the  subterranean  river 
of  personality  flows. 

But  the  deeper  and  more  philosophical 
grounds  on  which  the  doctrine  of  the  pre- 
existence of  the  soul  has  been  and  may  be 


DOCTRINE   OF  METEMrsYClIOSIS.     337 

maintained  arc  threefold.  They  may  l)e 
characterized  respectively  as  the  specula- 
tive, the  ethical,  and  the  physical  justifica- 
tions of  the  do^^ma.  If  they  explain  its 
prevalence,  and  account  for  its  vitality, 
they  do  so  by  givinj^  a  show  of  reason  for 
the  theory,  its  intellectual  raison  cfctrc. 

The  first  is  a  purely  ontological  considera- 
tion, the  relevancy  of  which  will  be  denied 
by  the  disciples  of  experience,  but  which 
seems,  to  say  the  least,  to  be  more  valid 
than  their  denial.  No  one  has  stated  it  with 
more  force  or  persuasiveness  than  Plato. 
The  great  idealist  of  antiquity  found  an  evi- 
dence of  preexistencc  in  our  present  know- 
ledge of  a  priori  notions,  or  ideas  which 
are  not  the  product  of  experience,  such  as 
mathematical  axioms,  and  all  metaphysical 
first  principles.  If  they  are  latent  in  the 
soul  at  birth,  their  ori-in  must  be  sought 
in  a  previous  state  of  existence.  We  could 
not  now  transcend  sense,  and  reach  gen- 
eral notions  of  any  kind,  unless  these  no- 
tions had  belonged  to  us  in  a  previous 
state.  But  it  is  evident  that  if  their  origin 
in  this  life  demands  for  its  explanation  the 
presupposition  of  a  prior  life,  their  exist- 
ence in   that   state  would  in\olve  the  pos- 


338  £SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

tulate  of  one  still  previous,  and  so  on  ad 
infinitum  ;  that  is  to  say,  it  would  demand 
the  eternal  existence  of  the  soul  itself. 
And  it  is  thus  that  we  reach  the  fully 
developed  form  of  this  ontological  argu- 
ment. If  life  or  existence  belongs  to  the 
soul  intrinsically,  it  must  have  always  ex- 
isted. As  in  the  Nyaya  system,  the  soul 
is  held  to  be  eternal,  because,  if  not  eternal, 
it  would  be  mortal.  "  Whatever  has  had  a 
beginning  will  have  an  end,"  was  the  fun- 
damental position  of  Gautama  and  his 
school  ;  and  this  notion  is  so  fixed  in  the 
Brahminical  mind,  that  every  religion  which 
denies  it,  or  fails  to  recognize  it,  is  looked 
upon  as  ipso  facto  a  false  religion.  The 
Brahminical  mind  is  opposed  to  Christian- 
ity, because  it  conceives  that  Christianity 
is  opposed  to  prcexistence.  So  in  the 
Bhagavad  Gita  it  is  said  of  the  soul,  "  You 
cannot  say  it  hath  been,  or  is  about  to  be, 
or  is  to  be  hereafter.  It  is  a  thing  with- 
out birth." 

The  whole  argument  of  the  Phaedo  re- 
volves around  the  same  centre,  that  the 
soul  is  naturally  and  intrinsically  death- 
less, that  it  has  in  it  a  principle  of  life 
with  which   you   cannot  associate   mortal- 


DOCTRINE   OF  METEMPSYCHOSIS.     339 

ity,  and  of  which  you  cannot  predicate  it. 
If  so,  its  prccxistencc  is  as  certain  as  its 
posthumous  existence.  This  is  the  domi- 
nant thought  of  all  that  Plato  teaches  on 
the  subject  of  immortality,  alike  in  the 
Phxdo,  the  Phasdrus,  and  the  Republic.  It 
is  a  purely  ontological  consideration.  All 
the  detailed  argumentation  in  the  Phocdo, 
for  example,  whether  it  involves  ethical  or 
dialectical  elements, — the  proof  from  the 
everlasting  cycle  of  existence  and  origina- 
tion out  of  oppositcs,  the  argument  from 
reminiscence,  the  proof  from  the  simplicity 
and  consequent  indissolubility  of  the  soul, 
the  refutation  of  the  objections  of  Simmias 
and  Cebes,  the  psychological  plea  founded 
on  the  native  prerogatives  and  capacities 
of  the  soul,  —  all  either  presuppose,  or  are 
merely  different  ways  of  stating  and  illus- 
trating the  cardinal  position,  that  indestruc- 
tible life  belongs  to  the  soul's  essence.  To 
Plato,  the  ideal  theory  is  primary,  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul  secondary  ;  but  the 
one  involves  the  other.  If  the  mind  of 
man  is  competent  to  grasp  eternal  ideas,  it 
must  be  itself  eternal.  If  the  ideas  which 
it  apprehends  are  eternal,  it  must  partici- 
pate in  their  eternity  ;  and  this  imperish- 


340  ESS  A  YS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

ableness  is  of  its  very  essence.  In  the 
Pheedrus  the  argument  is  advanced  that 
the  soul  is  apx^;  Ku/T/o-cws.  It  is  the  source  of 
motion  ;  but  having  the  cause  of  motion 
within  itself,  out  of  this  avroKLV7jaL<;  comes  its 
immortality.  In  the  tenth  book  of  the 
Republic  the  question  is  raised,  what  can 
possibly  destroy  the  soul  ?  Evil  attacks 
and  corrupts  it.  It  injures  its  character 
without  wasting  its  substance  :  and  if  this, 
which  most  of  all  might  be  supposed  capa- 
ble of  destroying  it,  cannot,  then  nothing 
else  can  assail  it.  What  is  composite  may 
be  decomposed  ;  but  the  soul,  though  it 
has  many  faculties,  is  not  composite.  It  is 
one,  and  cannot  be  decomposed,  and  must 
therefore  live  forever.  But,  if  so,  it  has 
lived  always.  It  is  without  beginning  — 
del  ov  (Rep.  X.  609-611)  ;  as  in  the 
Phoedo  it  is  described  as  dtSLov  ou  (106  d.). 
The  number  of  souls  in  the  universe  does 
not  increase.  An  addition  to  the  number 
of  immortals  would  be  a  contradiction  in 
terms,  inasmuch  as  what  begins  to  be  must 
die,  and  what  does  not  die  in  time  was 
never  born  in  time.  If,  therefore,  we  can- 
not attach  the  idea  of  dissolution  or  non- 
existence to  the  soul,  it  must  have  had  an 


DOCTRIXE   OF  METEMrSYCllOSlS.     341 

eternal  ]")ast  ;  no  temporal  ()ri_i;in  can  be 
assigned  to  it.  Its  prccxistencc  and  its 
posthumous  existence  are  correlative  ideas 
in  Platonic  thought.  If  it  has  had  an 
historical  origin  in  time  (which  it  has),  it 
will  have  it  over  and  over  again  ;  exi)eri- 
encing  many  births  and  many  deaths.  It 
is  born  when  it  dies,  and  it  dies  when  it 
is  born.  In  short,  the  terms  "  birth  "  and 
"  death  "  denote  merely  relative  concep- 
tions ;  and  there  disguise  our  ignorance,  as 
much  as  they  disclose  our  knowledge.  W'c 
see  the  phenomenal  appearances  of  birth 
and  death,  of  origination  and  decease  ;  but 
the  amount  of  vital  force,  or  of  spiritual 
existence,  is  a  fixed  and  constant  ciuantity. 
The  second  ground  on  which  the  theory  of 
prcexistence  finds  a  philosophical  justifica- 
tion is  an  ethical  one.  It  offers  an  explana- 
tion of  the  moral  anomalies  of  the  world,  the 
unequal  adjustments  of  character  to  situa- 
tion, with  the  heterogeneousness  and  ap- 
parent favoritism  of  Providence.  'I"o  many 
minds  this  has  seemed  the  most  plausible 
aspect  under  which  metempsychosis  may 
be  regarded  ;  and  if  it  unravels  the  ethical 
puzzle  of  suffering  associated  with  virtue, 
and  happiness  allied  with  evil,  it  may  have 


342  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

great  moral  value,  even  while  its  scientific 
basis  remains  unproved.  Hierocles  said, 
"  Without  the  doctrine  of  metempsychosis, 
it  is  not  possible  to  justify  the  ways  of 
Providence."  Let  us  see.  It  is  offered  to 
us  not  as  an  explanation  of  the  origin  of 
evil  in  the  abstract,  but  as  a  key  to  the  un- 
equal adjustment  of  happiness  and  misery 
in  the  present  life,  or  the  way  in  which 
they  arc  respectively  distributed.  It  is 
an  oft-told  tale  in  the  literature  of  the 
world,  and  a  perplexing  fact  in  every  life, 
this  union  of  virtue  with  sorrow  or  even 
with  misery  (which  is  the  secret  of  all 
tragedy),  and  the  opposite  and  equally  in- 
congruous union  of  happiness  and  vice.  If 
the  phenomena  of  the  moral  world,  taken 
by  themselves,  are  to  yield  us  a  theory  of 
the  universe,  it  can  scarcely  be  a  mono- 
theistic one.  It  must  be  dualistic  or  Wan- 
ichean.  They  seem  to  indicate  either  the 
conspicuous  partiality  and  favoritism  of 
Heaven,  or  a  successful  assault  on  the 
government  of  a  righteous  Being,  by  a 
formidable  rival  power,  if  not  an  equal 
potentate.  At  this  point,  the  theories  of 
precxistcnce  and  metempsychosis  offer  to 
lighten  the  burden  of  the  difficulty.     They 


DOCTRINE   OF  METEMrsVCHOSIS.     343 

affirm,  to  quote  the  words  of   Jouffroy,  — 
used    by    him    in     another    connection, — 
that  human  life  is  "a  drama,  wliosc  j)ro- 
lof^ue  and  catastrophe  are  both  alike  want- 
ini;."      In  a  previous  state,  the  s  ime  laws 
existed  which  govern  our  present  life  ;  and 
as  the  two  states  are  connected  by  moral 
ties,  we  now  gather   the  fruit  of  what  we 
formerly  sowed.      It  is  not  more  true  that 
in  age  we  reap  the  fruit   of   the   seed  we 
sow  in  youth,  than  that  we  gather  in   this 
life  the  harvest  of  an  innumerable  scries  of 
])ast  lives.     The  disasters  which  overtake 
the  good  are  not  the  penalty  for   present 
action  ;  they  are  punishment  for  the  errors 
and  faults  of  a  bygone  life.      The  sufferers 
are  not  expiating  their  forefathers'  crimes, 
but  their  own  formerly  committed.      Feli- 
city associated  with  moral  degradation  has 
the  same  relation  to  a  past  state  of  exi.st- 
ence.      The    reward    is    given    for    former 
actions  that  were  worthy  of  recompense; 
the    external    circumstances    of    each     lile 
having   a    moral    relation    to    the    internal 
state  of  the  soul  in  its  previous  existence. 

The  theory  arises  out  of  a  demand  for 
equity  in  the  adjustment  of  the  external 
and   the  internal    conditions   of   existence. 


344  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

On  no  moral  theory  can  the  present  un- 
equal adjustment  be  considered  both  equi- 
table and  final.  If  it  is  final  —  ?'.  e.,  if  there 
is  no  future  rectification  —  it  is  not  equi- 
table. If  it  is  not  final,  but  only  a  tem- 
porary arrangement  for  the  purposes  of 
moral  discipline  and  education,  it  may  be 
the  most  equitable  of  all  possible  arrange- 
ments. The  moral  root  of  the  theory  is 
thus  the  sense  of  justice,  and  the  convic- 
tion not  only  that  justice  will  be  done,  but 
that  //  is  nozu  being  done.  On  the  theory 
of  a  coming  rectification,  which  connects 
the  present  with  the  future,  and  not  with 
a  past  life,  the  idea  is  that  justice  is  not 
now  done  ;  but  that  the  assize  and  the  sen- 
tence will  put  all  to  rights.  The  theory  of 
metempsychosis,  connecting  the  present 
with  the  past  as  well  as  w^th  the  future, 
affirms  that  there  is  no  region  of  space,  or 
moment  of  time,  in  which  it  is  not  done. 
It  is  scarcely  to  be  wondered  at  that 
Henry  More,  the  Cambridge  Platonist, 
calls  this  doctrine  "  the  golden  key "  to 
Providence  ;  or  that  he  enlarges  in  its 
praise,  in  that  remarkable  dream  in  his 
"Divine  Dialogues,"  in  which  he  describes 
his  vision   of  the  key.      "  Let   us  but  as- 


DOCTRINE    or  METEMrSYCnOSIS.     345 

sumc,"  he  says,  "  tlic  prccxistcnce  of 
souls,  and  all  those  diiriculties  which  over- 
cloud the  uudcrstandiui;  will  vanish."  lie 
supposes  that  human  souls  were  created 
"in  infinite  myriads,"  "in  the  morninf^  of 
the  world."  "All  intellectual  spirits  that 
ever  were,  are,  or  shall  be,  s[)rang  up  with 
the  light,  and  rcjoicetl  toi^cthcr  before  God, 
in  the  morning  of  the  creation."  I  make 
this  quotation  from  More  —  whose  Dia- 
logues on  the  subject  are  much  more  in- 
teresting than  his  labored  treatise  on  "The 
Immortality  of  the  Soul,"  —  because,  as  he 
combined  the  doctrine  of  the  creation  of 
souls  with  their  pree.xistcnce,  he  rc[)re- 
sents  one  branch  of  the  theory- ;  the  other 
branch  being  that  represented  by  Gautama, 
Plato,  and  the  nco-Platonists,  who  maintain 
the  soul's  eternity.  Mjtempsychosis  fits 
equally  well  into  both  theories.  As  a  spec- 
ulative doctrine,  it  is  equally  consistent 
with  a  belief  in  instantaneous  creation,  and 
with  a  theory  of  emanation. 

The  ethical  leverage  of  the  doctrine  is 
immense.  Its  motive  power,  as  compared 
with  the  notion  of  posthumous  influence 
after  the  individual  has  perished,  —  the 
substitute  for  immortality  offered   by   La 


346  £SSAVS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

Mettrie  and  hLs  colleagues,  and  by  all  the 
positivists,  —  is  great.  It  reveals  as  mag- 
nificent a  background  to  the  present  life, 
with  its  contradictions  and  disasters,  as 
the  prospect  of  immortality  opens  up  an 
illimitable  foreground,  lengthening  out  on 
the  horizon  of  hope.  It  binds  together  the 
past,  the  present,  and  the  future  in  one 
ethical  series  of  causes  and  effects,  the 
inner  thread  of  which  is  both  personal  to 
the  individual  and  impersonal,  connecting 
him  with  two  eternities,  the  one  behind 
and  the  other  before.  With  peculiar  em- 
phasis it  proclaims  the  survival  of  moral 
individuality  and  personal  identity,  along 
.  with  the  final  adjustment  of  external  con- 
ditions to  the  internal  state  of  the  agent. 

So  far  the  evidence  is  in  favor  of  the 
doctrine.  Several  objections  to  it  from  an 
ethical  point  of  view  must  now  be  candidly 
weighed.  To  believe  in  a  past  state  of  ex- 
istence, of  which  we  have  no  present  re- 
membrance, may  appear  to  some  minds  to 
weaken  the  sense  of  responsibility.  It  may 
be  doubted  whether  we  can  sustain  a  moral 
relation  to  a  life  of  which  we  remember 
nothing,  or  to  a  future  in  which  the  mem- 
ory of  the  present  will  similarly  vanish. 


DOCTRINE    or  METEMI'SYCHOSIS.     347 

To  this  objection  it  niij^ht  justly  be  rc- 
pHed  that  the  moral  links  whicii  connect 
the  successive  moments  of  our  present  ex- 
perience are  often  unconscious  ones,  and 
their  validity  as  links  docs  not  dej-jend  on 
their  being  luminous  ever  afterwards.  The 
sup[)oscd  recency  of  our  origin  is  not  the 
ground  of  our  responsibility,  and  we  arc 
accountable  for  a  thousand  things  we  have 
forgotten. 

F(ir  is  not  our  first  year  fort^ot .' 
'l"he  haunts  of  memory  echo  not, 

even  as  to  terrestrial  life.  To  other 
minds  and  temperaments,  the  notion  of  a 
vast  ancestry,  of  an  illimitable  genealogy, 
will  rather  deepen  the  sense  of  responsibil- 
ity than  weaken  it.  As  the  inheritance  of 
an  illustrious  name  and  pedigree  quickens 
the  sense  of  duty  in  every  noble  nature,  a 
belief  in  pree.xistence  may  enhance  the 
glory  of  the  present  life  and  intensify  the 
reverence  with  which  the  deathless  j:)rinci- 
ple  is  regarded.  The  want  of  any  definite 
remembrance  of  ]>ast  states  of  conscious- 
ness can  be  no  barrier  to  a  belief  in  our 
having  experienced  them  ;  and  a  very 
slight  reflection  will  show  that  if  we  have 
preexisted  this  life,  memory  of  the  details 


348  £SSAyS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  the  past  is  absolutely  impossible.  The 
power  of  the  conservative  faculty,  though 
relatively  great,  is  extremely  limited.  We 
forget  the  larger  portion  of  experience 
soon  after  we  have  passed  through  it ;  and 
we  should  be  able  to  recall  the  particulars 
of  our  past  years  in  the  present  life,  fill- 
ing up  the  missing  links  of  consciousness 
since  we  entered  on  it,  before  we  were  in 
a  position  to  remember  our  ante-natal  ex- 
perience. Birth  into  this  world  may  be 
necessarily  preceded  by  crossing  the  river 
of  Lethe,  the  result  being  the  obliteration 
of  knowledge  acquired  during  a  previous 
state.  While  the  capacity  for  fresh  ac- 
quisition survived,  the  garnered  wealth  of 
old  experience  would  determine  the  amount 
and  the  character  of  the  new.  So  long, 
therefore,  as  it  is  impossible  to  retain  the 
memory  of  all  past  experience  in  the  pres- 
ent life,  so  long  as  fragments  survive  which 
suggest  preexistence,  so  long  as  the  river 
of  our  consciousness  flows  in  many  subter- 
ranean ways,  so  long  as  the  connection  of 
soul  and  body  induces  forgetfulness  as 
much  as  it  quickens  remembrance,  there 
may  be  no  insuperable  barrier  in  the  way 
of  the  theory  of  metempsychosis. 


DOCTRINE   OF  METEMPSYCHOSIS.     3^9 

Another  clifTiculty  must  ])c  considered. 
It  may  be  said  tliat  precxistenee  fails  to 
explain  the  moral  ineciuality  which  now 
exists,  because  if  we  assume  a  previcnis 
life  to  account  for  the  maladjustment  of 
this,  a  prior  preexistence  must  exj^lain  the 
anomalies  of  tliat,  and  so  on  ad  infniitiDH. 
ICven  if  the  moral  disorder  is  temporary, 
its  future  elimination  will  not  explain  wliy 
it  once  existed  under  a  perfect  system  of 
moral  government.  The  theory  of  its  ])re- 
vious  existence  only  carries  the  difficulty 
one  stage  nearer  to  its  source,  but  it  does 
not  remove  it,  or  lighten  its  pressure  in 
the  region  to  which  it  is  driven  back.  Be- 
sides, if  the  ultimate  prospect  is  such  a  re- 
arrangement of  destiny,  by  an  adjustment 
of  the  external  state  to  the  internal  con- 
dition, that  no  inequality  remains,  why  is 
this  not  effected  itoiv  ?  Why  is  the  mar- 
riage of  virtue  and  felicity  (the  internal 
and  the  external)  so  long  postponed  .' 

To  this  it  may  be  replied  that  it  is  no 
part  of  the  theory  of  metempsychosis  to 
explain  the  origin  of  evil.  It  is  only  the 
inequality  arising  from  the  way  in  which 
happiness  and  misery  arc  distributed  in 
this  life  —  often  in  inverse  ratio  to  virtue 


350  ESSAYS  IIV  PHILOSOPHY. 

and  vice  —  that  it  seeks  to  explain.  To 
throw  any  speculative  or  moral  difficulty 
into  the  background,  and  prevent  its  for- 
ward pressure,  is  to  accomplish  something, 
although  the  puzzle  still  remains  ;  and  to 
throw  it  back  a  little  way  is  perhaps  all 
that  we  can  do,  unless  we  can  eliminate  it, 
which  assuredly  we  cannot  do.  The  de- 
mand to  carry  it  still  farther  back,  so  as  to 
explain  the  previous  inequality,  is  really  to 
raise  the  question  why  it  is  there  at  all. 
And  to  this  there  is  probably  no  answer, 
except  that  which  the  existence  of  free 
will  supplies.  With  free  will  permanently 
existing,  there  is  a  permanent  possibility 
of  departure  from  the  moral  centre,  and 
of  swerving  towards  the  circumference. 
Hence  the  necessity  for  a  readjustment  of 
internal  with  external  conditions  will  al- 
ways exist. 

Others  may  still  further  object  that  their 
sense  of  justice  is  not  satisfied  by  our  suf- 
fering in  the  present  life  for  the  errors  of 
one  that  is  past.  But  is  there  justice  in 
our  suffering  in  manhood  for  the  faults  of 
our  youth  1  in  our  receiving  anything  to- 
day for  the  acts  of  yesterday .''  or  in  chil- 
dren suffering  at  all  for  the  deeds  of  their 


DOCTRINE   OF  METEMPSYCHOSIS.     351 

parents?  In  the  two  former  cases,  it  is 
merely  a  question  of  a  certain  time  claps- 
ins^  between  the  act  and  its  consccpiences. 
The  third  is  the  case  of  one  individual  suf- 
fering for  the  errors  of  another,  to  whom  he 
stands  organically  and  otherwise  related. 
Ikit  if  each  of  us  may  suffer  for  his  own 
past  actions,  and  one  may  suffer  through 
another's  deeds,  the  law  will  continue  to 
operate,  although  the  deed  may  belong  to 
one  stage  of  being  and  the  penalty  to  an- 
other, although  the  cause  and  its  conse- 
quence be  separated  by  the  widest  possi- 
ble interval. 

There  is  a  third  objection  which  must 
not  be  overlooked.  An  everlasting  cycle 
of  lives  might  become  wearisome,  and  in- 
duce a  longing  for  repose,  unbroken  by 
any^  new  birth  in  time.  The  perpetual  de- 
scent and  ascent,  with  repetitions  of  expe- 
rience only  slightly  varied,  might  lead  to 
the  wish  of  the  lotus-eaters  — 

While  all  things  else  have  rest  from  weariness, 
All  things  have  rest,  why  should  we  toil  alone  ? 

Nor  ever  fold  our  wings, 

And  cease  our  wanderings  ; 

Why  should  we  only  toil,  tiic  roof  and  crown  of  things  .' 

This  is  virtually  the  longing  for  nirvana. 


352  ESSAYS  IN  rHILOSOPIlY. 

And  the  relation  of  the  doctrine  of  me- 
tempsychosis to  that  of  nirvana  is  curious 
and  interesting.  Metempsychosis  is  part 
of  the  Buddhist  belief,  and  yet  nirvana, 
the  goal  of  Buddhist  longing,  is  the  cessa- 
tion of  metempsychosis  ;  the  soul  attain- 
ing rest  by  ceasing  to  exist,  or  being 
"blown  out."  Into  all  the  forms  of  Bud- 
dhist opinion  transmigration  enters  ;  but 
"  soul  wandering  "  is  a  calamity,  an  evil 
inseparable  from  existence.  Nirvana  is  a 
deliverance  from  metempsychosis.  After 
undergoing  the  needful  purification  of 
many  births  and  deaths,  the  soul  attains 
the  condition  requisite  for  the  perfect  feli- 
city of  annihilation.  In  other  words,  it  is 
the  discipline  of  metempsychosis  that 
gradually  induces  a  feeling  of  detachment 
from  sensible  things.  A  repetition  of  ex- 
perience is  no  longer  necessary,  and  the 
soul  is  at  length  fitted  and  entitled  to  es- 
cape from  the  turmoil  of  existence,  with  its 
endless  "vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit," 
into  the  perfect  rest  of  non-existence. 
Such  is  nirvana.  It  is  worthy  of  note, 
however,  that  amongst  the  Cingalese 
Buddhists,  the  transmigration  ending  in 
nirvana  —  or    the    peace    of    nonentity  — 


DOCTRINE   OF  METKM PSYCHOSIS.     353 

passed  into  a  doctrine  of  extinction  plus 
transmission.  The  departinL(  soul,  ready 
to  be  "blown  out,"  lit  the  lamp  of  exist- 
ence in  another  s[)irit  before  its  own  anni- 
hilation was  consummated.  Its  last  point 
of  contact  with  existence,  its  expirini^  ef- 
fort, was  a  creative  one.  It  kei)t  up  the 
succession  of  creatures  destined  to  un- 
dergo the  same  process  of  metem{)syeho- 
sis,  by  a  final  act  of  updda)ia,  or  attachment 
to  existence  ;  after  which,  it  entered  itself 
into  the  supreme  bliss  of  nirvana. 

This  desire  for  rest  in  the  extinction  of 
all  desire,  so  congenial  to  the  Oriental 
mind,  presents  no  attraction  to  the  hardier 
races  of  the  West  and  North.  It  may  be, 
in  fact,  a  temperamental  feature,  deter- 
mined by  subtle  climatic  conditions  and 
racial  peculiarities.  Certainly  it  offers  no 
allurement  to  natures  that  have  learned  to 
measure  the  charm  of  existence  by  the 
amount  of  energy  evoked  and  sustained  ; 
and  who  have  seen  that  "pleasure  is  but 
the  reflex  of  unimpeded  energy."  Rest  is 
only  valued  by  us  as  the  condition  of  a  fresh 
departure,  and  of  renewed  activity.  Tar- 
rying for  a  time  in  any  harbor  of  existence, 
the  inevitable  longing  arises  for   another 


354  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

sight  of  the  great  ocean,  and  a  new  voy- 
age. 

The  last  ground  on  which  metempsycho- 
sis may  be  advocated  belongs  to  the  meta- 
physic  of  physics.  As  an  argument  it  has 
often  been  implied,  when  it  has  not  been 
expressly  affirmed  ;  just  as  the  imaginative 
guesses  and  surmisings  of  the  primitive 
tribes  may  have  grown  unconsciously  out 
of  a  speculative  root,  which  their  authors 
were  incompetent  to  grasp.  That  philo- 
sophical root  is  the  uniformity  in  the 
amount  of  spiritual  existence  ;  the  convic- 
tion that,  since  the  quantity  of  matter  is 
neither  increased  nor  diminished,  it  is  the 
same  with  the  quantity  of  spirit ;  that  it  is 
neither  added  to,  nor  taken  from,  at  any 
moment  of  time.  It  is  a  doctrine  of  modern 
science  that  there  is  a  uniform  stock  of 
energy  within  the  universe,  which  neither 
increases  nor  decreases,  but  which  inces- 
santly changes  its  form  and  manifesta- 
tions, dissolving  retiring  reemerging,  ap- 
pearing disappearing  and  returning,  —  the 
proteus  of  the  physical  world.  Is  there  a 
phoenix  in  the  spiritual  realm,  correspond- 
ing to  this  proteus  in  the  material  sphere  .-• 
In  other  words,  while  the  amount  of  ma- 


DOCTRINE   OF  METEMrSYClIOSIS.     355 

terial  substance  remains  stationary,  if  the 
quantity  of  spiritual  existence  were  swiftly 
to  increase  at  one  end,  with  no  correspond- 
ing diminution  at  the  other,  /.  r.,  if  the 
birth  of  the  spirits  of  the  human  race  was 
a  new  creation,  —  multitudes  every  instant 
of  time  darting  out  of  nonentity  into  mani- 
fested being, —  and  if  their  death  was  a 
simple  transference  to  some  new  abode, 
would  not  this  incessant  and  rapid  increase 
overstock  the  universe  ? 

Now,  since  no  physical  power  is  ever 
lost,  all  force  being  simply  transformed,  if 
the  doctrine  of  the  conservation  of  energy 
be  applied  to  the  sphere  of  moral  and  spir- 
itual life,  two  alternative  theories  alone  arc 
possible  :  either  preexistence  and  immor- 
tality combined,  or  emanation  and  al)sor]->- 
tion.  Whether  the  latter  is  materialistic 
or  pantheistic  matters  not,  except  for  the 
name  we  choose  to  adopt ;  the  essence  of 
the  doctrine  is  the  same.  It  is  self-evident 
that  if  the  amount  of  spiritual  existence  is 
not  increased  every  moment,  the  preexist- 
ence of  all  souls  that  are  born,  before  their 
incarnation  in  the  ficsh,  is  as  certain  as 
their  immortality.  The  one  carries  the  other 
with  it,  or  is  carried  by  it.      They  are,  in- 


356  £ssAys  in  ri/iLosoriiY. 

deed,  not  two  doctrines,  but  two  sides  of 
the  same  doctrine.  Thus  the  number  of 
souls  in  the  universe  will  be  a  fixed  and 
constant  quantity.  If  the  conservation  of 
energy  be  true  of  spiritual  existence,  and 
the  soul  is  to  survive  the  death  of  the  body, 
then  it  lived  before  the  body  was  vitalized. 
If  it  is  never  to  be  extinguished,  it  never 
was  produced.  It  was  probably  the  force 
of  this  consideration  that  led  the  acute 
mind  of  David  Hume  to  affirm  that  "  me- 
tempsychosis is  the  only  system  of  this 
kind  {i.  c,  of  immortality)  that  Philosophy 
can  hearken  to."  ^  He  "says  what  is  in- 
corruptible must  also  be  ingenerable." 
"  The  soul,  if  immortal,  existed  before 
our  birth "  (p.  400).  In  the  same  con- 
nection he  acutely  suggests  "  how  to  dis- 
fose  of  the  infinite  number  of  posthu- 
mous existences  ought  to  embarrass  the 
religious  theory  "  (p.  404).  With  this  we 
may  associate  a  remark  of  Shelley  :  "  If 
there  are  no  reasons  to  suppose  that  we 
have  existed  before  that  period  at  which 
our  existence  apparently  commences,  then 
there  are  no  grounds  for  supposing  that 
we  shall  continue  to  exist  after  our  exist- 

^  Philosophical  Works,  iv.  p.  404. 


DOCTNJNK   OF  METEMrSYCnOSlS.     357 

cncc  has  a[)parently  ceased."  (ICssays,  p. 
58).  The  "conlimial  influx  of  bcinrjs," 
without  a  corrcspondint;  ci;re.ss,  is  a  difll- 
culty  which  will  seem  insuperable  to  many 
minds.  There  is  a  growinj^  cousoisus  of 
opinion  amoni^st  spiritualists  and  material- 
ists alike,  that  the  quantity  both  of  matter 
and  of  force  within  the  universe  suffers  no 
diminution,  and  no  enlargement ;  loss  in 
one  direction  being  invariably  and  neces- 
sarily balanced  by  gain  in  another,  and  all 
the  phenomenal  changes  in  Nature  being 
simply  a  matter  of  exchange — a  transpo- 
sition of  elements,  the  sum  of  which  is 
constant.  If  this  be  so,  it  has  an  impor- 
tant bearing  both  on  the  survival  of  the 
soul  after  death,  and  on  its  preexistence  ; 
the  two  doctrines  standing  and  falling  to- 
gether. 

As  to  the  permanence  of  the  materials 
which  compose  the  body,  when  the  organi- 
zation is  broken  up  and  disintegrated,  there 
is  no  debate.  The  survival,  in  some  form 
or  other,  of  what  we  call  the  mind,  soul, 
or  conscious  ego,  and  what  a  materialist 
psychology  terms  vital  force,  is  also  con- 
ceded. Neither  is  annihilated  ;  they  are 
only  transmuted  or  transformed.      lk:t  the 


358  ESSAVS  IN  PHILOSOI IIY. 

controversy  remains  after  this  concession, 
and  underlies  it.  The  alterations  which 
the  body  undergoes  can  be  traced,  because 
it  continues  visible  after  death.  Its  changes 
can  be  experimentally  investigated,  because 
the  transformations  are  slowly  effected. 
But  the  transformations  and  changes  of  the 
soul,  or  vital  principle,  cannot  be  traced. 

The  question  w^hich  now  remains  to  be 
disposed  of,  on  grounds  of  probability,  is 
not  whether  the  soul  does  or  does  not  sur- 
vive. Its  survival  is  conceded,  and  main- 
tained as  axiomatic.  The  only  controversy 
is,  171  zv/iat  form  docs  it  survive  ?  Is  it 
refunded  to  the  universe,  as  material  sub- 
stance is  restored,  to  be  worked  up  into 
new  forms,  by  the  protoplastic  force  that 
originally  made  it  what  it  was.''  or  does  it 
survive,  with  its  individuality  and  identity 
unbroken  .''  That  is  the  controversy  be- 
tween the  materialist  and  the  spiritualist. 

May  not  the  latter  be  abandoning  one 
half  of  his  territory,  or  at  least  surrender- 
ing one  of  his  positions  and  w^eakening 
his  ultimate  defense,  if  he  throws  away  the 
doctrine  of  preexistence }  It  seems  diffi- 
cult to  maintain,  on  rational  grounds,  that 
the  sum  of  finite  existence  is  being  perpet- 


rOCTK/XK    OF  METEMPSYCHOSIS.     359 

ually  filled  up  before,  with  no  corresj)()n(l- 
inj;  diminution  behind  ;  a  distinctly  quan- 
titative increase  in  front,  with  no  decrease 
to  balance  it  in  the  rear.  Over-population 
in  the  mother  country  has  necessitated 
emigration  to  the  colonics,  l^ut,  on  the 
theory  of  incessant  miraculous  increase, 
there  is  no  conceivable  colony  in  the  uni- 
verse that  would  not  be  already  over- 
stocked, and  where  the  arrival  of  any  emi- 
grants from  the  parent  country  would  not 
be  unwelcome. 

In  this  connection,  it  is  worthy  of  note 
with  what  caprice  the  immortalitv  of  the 
brute  creation  is  sometimes  spoken  of,  in 
comparison  with  the  immortality  of  man. 
Bv  manv,  who  are  confident  of  their  own 
survival,  the  immortality  of  animals  is  con- 
sidered a  curious  and  interesting  question, 
but  one  that  is  speculatively  unimportant, 
and  theoretically  indeterminaMe.  How 
much  depends  on  the  solution  of  the  prob- 
lem of  the  destination  of  lifi  is  wol  per- 
ceived. Vox  exam}):e,  wo  hear  it  otten 
said,  there  can  be  no  oi-)jection  to  the  im- 
mortality of  the  lii;^lur  animals.  lUit 
scientific  rigor  will  not  permit  a  line  of 
demarkation  to  be  drawn   between  the  ani- 


360  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

mal  races.  They  all  shade  into  one  an- 
other. Are  we  then  prepared  to  admit 
the  immortality  of  every  creature  in  which 
there  is  the  faintest  adumbration  of  intelli- 
gence .''  and  if  so,  of  every  one  in  which  is 
"the  breath  of  life."  If  we  do  not  admit 
this,  then  the  intelligence  which  we  find  in 
the  dog,  the  beaver,  the  bee,  and  the  ant, 
which  does  not  "perish  everlastingly,"  is 
co7iservcd  somewhere,  after  the  dissolution 
of  the  bodies  of  these  animals.  But  how 
vast  the  Hades,  stocked  with  the  spiritual 
part  of  every  creature  that  has  ever  lived  and 
died  upon  our  planet  from  primeval  time  ! 
When  the  prolific  increase  of  the  tribes  of 
animated  nature  is  realized,  and  the  enor- 
mous cycles  of  time  during  which  the  suc- 
cession has  been  kept  up,  imagination  sinks 
paralyzed  before  the  conception  of  any 
shadowy  storehouse,  in  which  these  crea- 
tures continue  to  live,  far  less  to  flourish. 
The  supposition  is  felo-de-se. 

But,  it  may  be  pertinently  asked,  if  we 
abandon  the  immortality  of  all,  can  we  re- 
tain the  immortality  of  any  }  Is  not  trans- 
migration, in  this  case,  the  most  probable 
hypothesis  .''  Is  not  the  notion  of  a  un""- 
form  stock  of  vital  energy,  which   passes 


DOCTRINE    or  MErEMI'SYCIIOSIS.     36 1 

and  repasses  endlessly  throiif;hout  the  or- 
ganized tribes  of  nature,  the  most  eonsist- 
ent  theory  we  ean  frame  ?  No  one  need 
hesitate  to  a[)ply  the  doctiine  of  nieti'ni- 
psychosis  to  the  animal  world,  alth()U;_;h  he 
may  doubt  its  applicability  to  the  human 
race  ;  while,  if  wc  reject  it  in  tht-  lower 
sphere,  and,  in  consequence,  hold  that  the 
intellig'cnce  and  devotion  of  the  dog  i)erish, 
it  may  be  hard  to  maintain  that  the  reason 
and  affection  of  man  survi\-e. 

Another  special  dilTiculty  arises  at  this 
point,  and  it  is,  perhaps,  the  chief  objec- 
tion to  the  doctrine  of  metemjjyschosis. 
How  docs  "the  life"  that  survives  unex- 
tinguished pass  from  one  organized  form 
to  another  ?  We  can  trace  its  signs  or 
manifestations  till  they  cease  at  death.  So 
far  all  is  clear.  But  what  Ihcoiiics  of  it  on 
the  dissolution  of  the  body  ? 

Animula,  va^ula,  l)laiulula, 
IIospcs  comcsque  corporis, 
QiKV  71UIIC  abibis  in  loca  ' 

If  not  extinguished,  it  merely  retreats  and 
reappears.  But  how  does  it  connect  itself 
with  the  new  organization,  into  which  it 
subsequently  enters  as  an  animating  and 
vitalizing   principle.^     This    is   a   difficulty 


362  ESSAYS  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

not  only  in  the  way  of  transmigration,  but 
of  survival  in  any  form.  The  present  con- 
nection between  soul  and  body  is  known 
so  far ;  and,  in  the  absence  of  experience 
of  separation,  we  have  some  psychological 
facts  which  suggest  that  the  union  is  not 
inseparable,  that  the  soul  is  not  a  function 
of  the  body,  but  that  in  each  individual 
we  have  two  principles,  if  not  two  sub- 
stances, temporarily  united.  When  they 
are  separated,  however,  as  they  are  at 
death,  how  does  the  spiritual  part  con- 
tinue to  live  disembodied  .''  and  how  does 
it  unite  itself,  or  how  is  it  united,  with  a 
new  corporeal  form  .''  Docs  it  ally  itself 
with  its  new  organization,  in  some  cases, 
by  a  voluntary  act  .-*  in  others,  by  a  passive 
and  involuntary  process }  If  the  latter, 
there  must  be  some  law  by  which  the 
change  is  effected,  some  method  of  devel- 
opment determining  the  movement  in  a 
cycle.  If  the  act  is  voluntary,  we  have  a 
fresh  difliculty  to  face,  viz.,  that  the  spir- 
itual must  be  able  to  select  its  new  abode. 
It  must,  therefore,  either  choose  one  out 
of  many,  or  it  must  enter  into  the  only 
one  that  is  fitted  for  its  reception.  It 
must  be  either  wholly  active  or  wholly  pas- 
sive, or  partly  active  and  partly  pr.ssive. 


DOCTRIXE  OF  METEM I'SYCHOSIS.     363 

Wc  can  state  tlic  altornativcs,  but  how 
to  choose  ainon_L;st  them,  liow  to  seKet 
one  of  them,  is  a  dirfKulty  that  itniauis. 
The  si)ii"it  shrinks  from  a  ghostly  or  (Hs- 
cmbocHetl  state  as  its  i)er|)etiial  destiny, 
nearly  as  much  as  it  recoils  from  the  sleep 
of  nirvana;  but  how  to  find  a  body,  iiow 
to  incarnate  itself,  or  even  to  conceive  the 
process  by  which  it  could  by  any  foreign 
ai;cncy  be  robed  anew,  remains  a  puzzle  ; 
even  while,  as  Henry  Vaughan  exi^resses 
it,— 

It  fccis  through  all  this  fleshly  circssc 
Bright  shootcs  of  cvcrlastiiignc>sc. 

These  are  difficulties  which  attend  every 
attempt  to  form  definite  conceptions  as  to 
the  details  of  this  question.  Mr.  Grei;  is 
wise  when  he  says,  of  the  belief  in  immor- 
tality, "  Let  it  rest  in  the  vague,  if  you 
would  have  it  rest  unshaken," 

An  additional  point  must  be  noted.  Al- 
though wc  may  validly  object  to  have  our 
convictions  exhibited  to  view,  as  we  de- 
cline to  expose  the  rootlets  of  a  jjlant  to 
"  the  nipping  and  the  eager  air  "  of  winter, 
it  is  a  signal  gain  to  integrity  of  belief 
that  the  scientific  s])irit  of  our  age  de- 
mands the  removal  of  all  presuppositions 


364  ^^^^KS-  IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

which  cannot  be  verified,  and  insists  that 
those  which  remain  shall  be  luminous 
from  root  to  branch.  It  does  this  with 
even  more  force  and  rigor  than  Descartes 
employed,  in  his  new  method  of  research. 
So  much  intellectual  mist  has  been  al- 
lowed to  gather  and  settle  over  this  ques- 
tion of  the  soul's  destiny,  that  when  a 
breath  of  the  east  wind  raises  it,  and  shows 
how  little  is  known  or  can  be  intelligently 
surmised,  many  desire  that  the  obscuring 
curtain  should  speedily  fall  again.  But  in 
discussing  the  question  of  immortality  it  is 
above  all  things  necessary  that  we  mark 
the  alternatives  of  the  controversy,  and 
the  consequences  which  follow  from  our 
premises,  alike  of  affirmation  and  denial. 
If  we  reject  the  doctrine  of  preexistence 
we  must  either  believe  in  non-existence, 
or  fall  back  on  one  or  other  of  the  two 
opposing  theories  of  creation  and  traduc- 
tion :  and,  as  we  reject  extinction,  we 
may  find  that  preexistence  has  fewer  dif- 
culties  to  face  than  the  rival  hypotheses. 
Creation  —  or  creationism,  as  it  has  some- 
times been  named  —  is  the  theory  that  every 
moment  of  time  multitudes  of  new  souls 
are    simultaneously   born,   not   sent   down 


IWCIKIXF.    OF  METEMrsVCHOSIS.     365 

from  a  celestial  source,  but  freshly  niadc 
out  of  nothinj^,  and  placctl  in  hodus  pre- 
pared for  thcni  by  a  process  of  natural  j^rn- 
eration.  It  is  curious  to  observe  how  ve- 
henicutly  tile  Cambridge  I'latonisls  recoiled 
from  the  notion  of  a  jjure  spirit,  fresh  from 
the  liand  of  Deity,  being  placed  by  him  "  in 
such  a  body  as  would  presently  detiie  his 
image."  The  idea  of  the  Crealcjr  l)einL;- 
compelled  to  add  a  spirit  to  the  body,  how- 
ever and  whensoever  a  body  might  aiise,  ac- 
cording to  natural  law  and  i)rocess,  seemed 
to  them  a  monstrous  infraction  of  divine 
liberty.  The  theory  of  traduction  seemed 
to  them  even  worse,  as  it  implied  the  der- 
ivation of  the  soul  from  at  least  two 
sources  —  from  both  parents;  and  a  sub- 
stance thus  derived  was  apparently  com- 
posite and  quasi-niaterial. 

It  is  easy  to  criticise  the  doctrine  of 
preexistence,  as  held  in  the  Pythagorean 
brotherhood,  and  taught  by  the  mystic 
sage  of  Agrigentum,  or  even  by  I'lato. 
The  fantastic  folly  of  the  Prahminical 
teaching  (as  in  the  twelfth  book  of  the 
laws  of  Manu)  and  the  absurdity  of  Bud- 
dha's transmigrations  are  apparent,  l^ut 
it  is  easier  to  follow  Lucretius  in  his  satire 


366  ESSAYS   IN  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  it,  than  to  appreciate  the  difficulty  which 
gave  it  birth.  As  reproduced  by  Virgil 
and  by  Cicero,  the  genius  of  the  Greek 
poets  and  philosophers  lost  the  charm  of 
its  original  setting  ;  and  I  question  if  the 
surmises  of  Plato  were  fully  appraised,  till 
the  Phaedo  itself  experienced  metempsy- 
chosis in  Wordsworth's  "  Ode."  But 
stripped  of  all  extravagance,  and  expressed 
in  the  modest  terms  of  probability,  the 
theory  has  immense  speculative  interest, 
and  great  ethical  value.  It  is  much  to 
have  the  puzzle  of  the  origin  of  evil 
thrown  back  for  an  indefinite  number  of 
cycles  of  lives,  to  have  a  workable  explana- 
tion of  nemesis,  and  of  what  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  call  the  moral  tragedies,  and  the 
untoward  birth  of  a  multitude  of  men  and 
women.  It  is  much,  also,  to  have  the  doc- 
trine of  immortality  lightened  of  its  diffi- 
culties ;  to  have  our  immediate  outlook 
relieved  by  th?  doctrine  that,  in  the  soul's 
eternity,  its  preexistence  and  its  future 
existence  are  one.  The  retrospect  may 
assuredly  help  the  prospect.  And  if  "this 
gray  dogma,  fairly  clear  of  doubt,"  as  Glan- 
vill  describes  it,  seems  strange  in  the  ab- 
sence  of   all    remembered  traces    of   past 


DOCTK/A'E   OF  MEl  EM  PSYCHOSIS.     3^,7 

existence,  it  is  worth  considerini;  that  in  ;i 
future  state  a  point  will  he  reaehed  whiii 
prcexistcnce  will  he  true.  It  we  are  to  he 
immortal,  immediately  after  death  nietmi- 
psychosis  will  ha\e  heeonie  a  reah/.ed  ex- 
perience ;  and  our  present  lives  will  stand 
in  the  same  relation  to  the  future,  on 
which  we  shall  then  have  entered,  as  that 
in  which  the  past  now  stands  ti;  oiu'  pres- 
ent life. 

Henry  More  said  that  he  pioduced  his 
golden  key  of  i)reexistence  "  only  at  a 
dead  lift,  when  no  other  method  would 
satisfy  him,  touching  the  ways  of  (iod, 
that  by  this  hypothesis  he  might  kec[)  his 
heart  from  sinking."  Whether  ice  make 
use  of  it  or  not,  we  ought  to  realize  its 
alternatives.  The\-  are  these.  ICitlur  all 
life  is  extinguished  ami  resolved,  through 
an  absorption  and  reassimilation  of  the 
vital  principle  everywhere  ;  or  a  perpetual 
miracle  goes  on,  in  the  incessant  and  rapid 
increase  in  the  amount  of  spiritual  exi>t- 
ence  within  the  universe  ;  and  while  hu- 
man life  survives,  the  intelligence  autl  the 
affection  of  the  lower  animals  perish  ever- 
lastingly. 


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K74E7      Essays    In  ^^      000  012  038 
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